


There and Back

by AzureTiger



Series: Thundershield adventures [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Thor (Marvel), Team as Family, Thundershield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20971754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureTiger/pseuds/AzureTiger
Summary: This serves as a little interlude for my series :) I couldn't leave Bucky out, but I couldn't think of a good plot to write a full-length story with him in it. You don't need to know what happens in previous stories to follow the plot here (bc there isn't much of one), but the relationship follows from where it left off.Thor missed the HYDRA showdown over the Potomac, but when the enemy returns, this time he's here. And he won't let them hurt Steve again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While I start the finale for this series, have a little something in between ;) I've got the next part fully planned out, and ready to write, plus an artwork project to top it all off.
> 
> Thanks for staying tuned! I've compiled all your suggestions and have worked a lot of them into my next story. I've saved the others for future works. Of course if you have more suggestions, I'm always open to them! Even if they don't make it into the next story, I'll try to fit them in to something else later on.
> 
> Enjoy!

The Avengers drifted apart. Tony returned to his house, Bruce flew back to a third-world country to continue his work treating illnesses there, and Steve and the spies fell back to SHIELD for work. Thor stayed. He visited home a couple of times, but there was little joy there for him. Yes, there was battle, and his companions were always glad to see him, but since his mother’s death, as well as Loki’s, Odin had been less than tolerable company. The Allfather relentlessly disapproved of Thor’s ‘fruitless escapades’ down on Midgard, but made no effort to stop him. 

He moved in with Steve, occasionally coming along on a mission if stealth wasn’t required, or offering himself as backup if things went badly. SHIELD was glad to have such a heavy-hitter available, and made use of him a couple of times for larger operations. Steve was always glad to have him on the battlefield, and though usually operations required stealth, there was the odd time that a full-out firefight was inevitable. The two of them were happy to fall into step side-by-side and get the job done. 

Clint joked that Thor was becoming a housewife one evening when the four Avengers hung out back at the apartment for post-battle revels. The others had laughed, but when the spies had left, Steve had worriedly asked the demigod if this set-up was okay. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Steve had winced. “If you’re not happy here... you don’t have to stay.” 

“I confess I miss the excitement of frequent battle,” Thor had admitted cheerfully. “But I am happy here, with you.” 

Steve had flushed, and that was the end of that. They _ were _happy here, watching movies Clint recommended them, walking the streets on off days exploring new foods, or simply enjoying the view and each other’s company. They slept in the same bed, comfortably tucked against each other. There were rough nights for both of them, but those were few and far between, and they got each other through. 

As much as Thor was proud to be able to do it, and that Steve was willing, it didn’t mean he enjoyed seeing the Captain hurt. Steve brought his injuries home, no-doubt hiding them from his comrades to avoid SHIELD medical. For what reason, Thor could only guess. Dutifully, he would chide the soldier for concealing them from people who were supposed to be his friends, especially Natasha and Clint, but there was never anything terribly serious to treat, and Thor was glad to help. Steve was letting him, and as long as the Captain wasn’t suffering in silence, and allowing himself to be taken care of, that was all that mattered. Banner had taught him as much as could be taught, and on top of his centuries of experience treating battle injuries, Thor could deal with anything Steve brought home. He praised the Allfather that nothing ever required equipment or expertise he did not possess. Steve’s dislike of hospitals was ever-present, and clearly he still had a problem with showing weakness to others. Thor wondered why he wouldn’t at least confide in Barton or the Widow. 

Steve took Thor for a ride on his motorcycle, and many more rides afterward when the prince expressed his enjoyment of the experience. He was always happy to hop on the leather seat and wrap his arms around the Captain’s waist, waiting expectantly for the rumble of the engine and the wind in his hair. It was exhilarating, weaving through traffic so close to the ground and at such speeds. Comparable to a flight with Mjolnir. They did that, too, flying above the city late at night when it was dark. It would be Steve’s turn to cling to him, and they would shoot off the pavement toward the moon, sailing away from the city lights and into the nearby forest. There, the stars were a little more visible, midnight traffic dulled to a distant thrum beating behind gentle breezes and chirping crickets. They would lie in the treetops, or on the grass by the forest’s edge, hands entwined, watching the universe spin on. 

Earth garments were exceedingly comfortable. Thor had first been amazed by this when he’d met Jane in New Mexico. He was continually impressed even now. Steve had more money than he knew what to do with thanks to his army pension and SHIELD salary, but the two of them still shared clothes often. Mostly hoodies. Every time Steve got undressed and put on his uniform before heading out on a job, Thor would snag his discarded sweater and pull it on. Then, he would wait, like a dog. 

Waiting was always the hardest. Steve was a capable warrior, the strongest, fastest, and most skilled of his fellow humans. But he was still human, could still bleed and break and make mistakes. His teammates were only human too, and they were just as susceptible to slip-ups. Thor spent long hours keeping himself busy, afraid to leave the apartment in case Steve returned earlier than scheduled. He flipped through magazines Clint had given them in search of recipes, wondering what he should make when Steve got back. 

Clint was right; he was becoming a housewife. Thor didn’t mind, though as months passed he found himself itching for battle, or _ something _ to do, to keep himself busy. The feeling wasn’t helped by Steve’s slowly-growing aversion to assistance and treatment. 

They still had fun together, still enjoyed off days together. But like a deathly infection growing inside a host, that old resistance to any help for his hurts was making a comeback. The development was slow, so gradual Thor almost didn’t notice. A look would cross the Captain’s face, as if he was considering trying to lie, but ultimately he would still fold to Thor’s touch and let the prince see to whatever injuries he’d brought home this time. 

Steve became more and more adamant that he was alright, he sometimes he even looked it. Sometimes Thor believed him, offering him the benefit of the doubt only to hear hitched breathing beside him when they went to bed. Come morning, Steve would claim not to have noticed his cracked ribs, which would have almost healed by then anyway. It didn’t take long for the Captain to grow more blatant with his lies, stalking through the door and heading straight for the shower, claiming he was fine despite the clear gash in his lower back, or the dark stain on his leg, or the bruising all over one side of his face. He even denied a wound Thor had _ seen _ him receive when SHIELD asked him to come along for backup. 

He tried to find an opportunity to ask Clint and Natasha about it, but Steve was always nearby, so he didn’t dare ask for fear of starting an argument. Maybe whatever his Captain was working through, Thor needed to trust he was finding what he needed to get through it. Just because they were together didn’t mean Thor was the answer to every problem, as much as he wished he could be. 

A nightmare was starting to eat at his consciousness whenever he closed his eyes to sleep. The details began blurry, faint and unassuming. But they were rising, becoming more tangible each night. Smoky images were developing into hyper-detailed visions. Night after night, Thor awoke far too early, shimmering with sweat and panting faintly. Steve was always asleep, sometimes resting off injuries from his latest mission. The Captain seemed to be getting more rest than he used to, but always looked a little... worn. Thor had to say he felt similarly. 

That was why, when Odin summoned him, a sense of relief swept through him. He felt a little guilty for it, reasoning that some time apart would be good for them. Maybe Steve needed to deal with what was bothering him on his own. Thor just hoped the problem wasn’t him. 

“I will be gone for no more than a month,” Thor explained, standing in the landing. “I will miss you. Be safe.” 

“I’ll miss you too,” Steve smiled. “And likewise.” 

They hovered there by the door, each feeling there was more to say but not quite sure how to phrase their concerns. Finally, Steve leaned forward and wrapped his arms loosely around the prince’s back. He seemed hesitant, but when Thor squeezed warmly back, the Captain tightened his grip too, and they hung there in silent conversation, sharing heartbeats and slow breaths. Steve seemed to be leaning on him, sighing a little. Apology shone in his eyes when they pulled apart. 

It startled Thor when Steve grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him closer, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He gave back, and it felt good, tasted good. Steve’s raw strength was intoxicating, inviting. It was almost enough to make him stay, deny Odin’s request and his duties to his kingdom. 

Almost. 

He needed the space. Thor felt an odd sense of detachment as Heimdall greeted him in the bi-frost, the rainbow bridge he had ridden across countless times over his long life stretching out to the place he used to fondly call home. Asgard would always hold a place in his heart, as much as he was bound by duty to it, but its golden halls and warm colors no longer held warmth for his spirit. Odin greeted him with the same sad eyes, drawing in for a hug, then dropped passive-aggressive remarks about his place in Asgard, and lack of it everywhere else. They didn’t speak of Frigga or Loki, but the sadness had never left his father since their deaths. Thor knew Odin mourned his adoptive son, too, for all the conflicts they’d shared. 

Either of his lost familiar members would have known what to do. Thor lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to claim him. Tomorrow would bring battle, but until then he would have to find other ways of distracting himself. So far, he was unsuccessful. 

A couple of tears slipped out his eyes and rolled down his face, dribbling into his ears and soaking the pillows. Mother would have known how to help Steve, advised what to say to the stubborn Captain, perhaps hazarded a guess as to what ailed him. She would have encouraged her son, given him the support he needed. Thor was observant, but not as much as his brother. Loki might have pointed out observations of his own toward the Captain, but he would have certainly made comment of Thor’s own behavior. He wouldn’t have held back, either. If Thor was contributing to the problem, his brother would have stated it bluntly. 

_ You were taken too soon... _ Thor wiped his eyes. Loki had placed his life between Thor’s, Steve’s, and death. And he’d paid for it. _ For all your mistakes, some of which were not your fault, there was always good in you. _ Things probably never would have gone back to how they were then the brothers were children, before ascending to the throne had become imminent and they had simply been young boys. But they had been getting better. 

Morning brought battle, and Thor joined his old friends gladly, not thinking much about where they were going or why they were fighting. He was simply glad to have something to hit, a means to release pent-up energy and frustration. He let all his sense of inadequacy become rage, and the battle was easily won. 

The small party celebrated their victory over dinner around a crackling fire, laughing and recounting stories. Thor sat in silence, pulling out a drawing Steve had given him. It was a drawing of the prince, which some might say was vain, but it was a window into the Captain’s mind. This was how Steve saw him, and the drawing said ‘I love you’ with more potency than words alone could. He’d immediately asked to have it the moment it was finished, even though it was just a rough sketch on some scrap paper. 

“Missing him?” Volstagg appeared at his side, sitting with an armful of food. He dropped some into the prince’s lap. 

“Very much,” Thor nodded. Despite their recent conflict, his love for the soldier hadn’t been dampened. Time apart was a good idea, but he missed his Captain no less. “He suffers, and I cannot find the answer.” 

“It is not a battle you must fight alone,” Volstagg reasoned. “He has many friends, as do you. You will find the solution, together.” 

Thor nodded and put the drawing away, eating his dinner in silence. Maybe an idea would come, or a new perspective, if he could distance himself from the problem and examine it from the outside. Volstagg dragged him into the conversation, and he allowed it, losing himself in heated debates about which battles had been the most glorious. 

The next day brought more fighting. Thor wished Steve were at his side. They worked well together, their instincts in sync and their strengths complementary. 

But, the Warriors Three and Sif were excellent companions as well. He would always be proud to fight alongside Asgard’s best. It took no time at all to fall back into rhythm with them. All his time away hadn’t dulled his senses at all – between the few excursions SHIELD invited him on, he was always happy to go down to the gym (or sometimes the forest, where they could go wild), and train with Steve. There was nothing like a super-soldier, master of hand-to-hand combat, to keep you on your toes. 

The weeks wore on. Battle felt good, but it quickly became meaningless. He missed Steve, missed the soldier’s hands on his skin, missed his calm strength and warm kisses. Nights spend alone in his palace quarters were cold. He’d quickly learned that when Steve shivered through his nightmares, it didn’t guarantee he was dreaming about the ice. Sometimes the cold meant loneliness. Thor wrapped himself tightly in his blankets, but the shiver wouldn’t go away. 

He felt disconnected. He’d spent time away from Steve before and been fine – they weren’t joined at the hip – but this was different. This was... wrong. He shouldn’t have left at a time like this. 

_ Little choice I had... _ Thor turned over and clutched a pillow to his chest. _ Still... I should not have left him at such a time. _

He should have pushed, begged for the truth, fought until Steve admitted what was troubling him. When Thor finally sank into a restless slumber, he was violently ripped away from it by a violent nightmare of his own, and he knew he hadn’t been entirely honest either. 

Lead by example. That had always been effective against Steve’s self-destructive tendencies. It was also just _ right. _ They were partners, weren’t they? As much as Thor wanted Steve’s honesty, the soldier deserved it in return. Whatever Thor felt toward the conflict, Steve probably felt similarly. _ I am a fool. I must speak my mind when I return. _

The fourth week was drawing to an end, but it felt like he’d been gone for months. Thor hadn’t expected to be gone the whole month, but when he returned from his most recent fight to proclaim another victory to his father, Odin simply nodded and explained there may be more conflict on the horizon which needed Asgardian intervention. Thor nodded respectfully, hiding his disappointment to the best of his ability. It must not have been well enough, because the Allfather regarded him with one narrowed eye. 

A feast was held that night. Mirth and smells of warm food filled the halls of Asgard. None of it reached him. Thor sat back in his chair and watched the festivities. He spotted Odin across the hall and made brief eye contact with him. He averted his gaze and closed his eyes as he took a long sip from his drink. 

“Lord Thor!” the call jolted him, and he turned to spot a guard racing for him. “Lord Thor, Heimdall summons you.” 

Thor forgot his drink and stood up, brushing past his friends, suddenly aware of the ache in his chest – something was wrong. The guard took off running, and he followed, diverting for the balcony. Mjolnir whistled toward his open hand and he leapt into the air, snatching the handle as his weapon swept by. His cape billowed behind him as he blasted toward the Bi-frost. 

Heimdall was waiting, greeting him at the entrance and leading him inside. Alarm peeked through the stoic guardian’s expression. “You asked me to keep watch on your Captain,” he rumbled. “I confess had I checked sooner... Thor, he needs you.” 

“Odin-” 

“Go. I will take care of what comes,” Heimdall shook his head. 

“Thank you,” Thor breathed, his legs carrying him toward the brilliant light that was all that separated him from his lover. 

The second his feet touched the shimmering portal, fear clutched his heart. _ Steve... _ What could have happened in his absence? _ I left him with Natasha and Clint. They will have kept an eye on him. I would trust them with my own life. He is not alone. He has SHIELD, too. _ _ They may not operate on a personal level as did the Avengers, but they would not abandon him. _

Thor knew this city. He’d spent long enough roaming the streets to recognize a few buildings. It was a nice day, billowing smoke the only clouds drifting across the soft blue sky. There was sand at his feet, forest behind him, river before him. Smoldering wreckage rained in the distance, splashing into the river. He glanced to his left, and spotted a set of footprints. “Steve...” 

Someone coughed on his right. Thor snapped his head around and dropped Mjolnir with a muted thud. Heimdall’s rare display of urgency made sense. His heart shuddered, and his hands trembled as he dropped to his knees at Steve’s side. Imagining something was much different than actually seeing it. 

He’d missed one hell of a fight, that much was clear by the marks on the Captain’s body, never-mind the carnage that seemed oddly distant, here on the serene shoreline. Steve coughed again, bloody water bubbling on his lips. There was a lot of blood. It stained his uniform on his arm, his leg, his stomach... Thor vaguely recalled seeing a similarly-designed uniform at the museum when Steve had taken him once. _ Steven, what have you gotten yourself into...? _

“Steve...” Thor’s hands remembered what to do, pulling off his cape and pushing the thick fabric into the Captain’s stomach as he watched fluttering eyelids. “Steven, can you hear me? Answer me.” 

There was no answer. Steve’s low moans were in response to his own pain and suffering, not anything the prince was saying. His skin was white and freezing cold to the touch, tinted a worrying grey. _ No, no Steve... _

That mark on his head looked brutal. Who had hit him hard enough to make the super-soldier bruise like that? Who had beat him so badly? 

He needed help, now. Thor carefully, pulled Steve into his lap, propping him sitting to ease his breathing. It helped, a little. The Captain coughed again spitting out mouthfuls of pink water, whining in pain as he was moved. His hand brushed Thor’s knee, and his eyes fluttered open for a long enough to meet the prince’s frightened stare. 

“Shh, I have you,” Thor whispered, drawing Steve’s head against his shoulder and pressing a handful of cape into the gushing wound in his stomach. He drew both the Captain’s hands over it one at a time and pushed them in place. _ Where to take you... This is more than I can care for on my own. _Steve needed a hospital. He was about to wrap Steve in his cape and stand up, but a sound stopped him. 

Someone was calling distantly, and Thor scanned the beach for enemies for the few seconds it took to realize the sounds were coming from Steve’s earpiece. He pried the little black device from the Captain’s ear and pushed it into his own, Natasha’s voice immediately ringing through. 

“-eve! Steve, answer me! Hill, you see him?” 

“Negative,” a woman’s voice – Hill – joined in. “But I saw a big rainbow cut down over the Potomac.” 

“I’m flying in that direction now.” Fury’s voice this time. 

“Natasha,” it was probably a good time to speak up, now that they were finished. “It is Thor. I am with Steve. He’s hurt. He needs a hospital.” 

“Thor,” the Widow didn’t both to ask why he was suddenly here. Now was not the time. Thor didn’t ask what was going on either. “We’re on our way. Where are you?” 

“I see him,” that was Hill again, and Thor heard the sound of helicopter blades, glancing up to spot the vehicle descending through the smoke. 

Something big must have happened for SHIELD to be involved. Thor clutched Steve’s bleeding body against his chest, listening closely to the Captain’s beating heart. The rhythm was weak and shaky. Was he dying? Thor didn’t know. He didn’t know how badly injured Steve was. The serum would protect him, just as it always did, as would the soldier’s own tenacity and strength. 

The helicopter landed and a somewhat-familiar woman hopped out, throwing a headset into the seat and racing over. Two more people clambered out – Natasha, and someone else who was unfamiliar. They left Fury in the pilot’s seat. 

“Two... three GSWs,” Hill pulled aside Thor’s cape and did an assessment of his wounds. “A graze – non-vital. Stab wound in the shoulder. He’s bleeding like a fish, Fury we need to get him into an OR.” 

“Negative,” came the reply. “Hospital is too dangerous. We can’t trust anyone.” 

SHIELD was compromised? “Whatever you fear, they shall not get past me,” Thor looked up and locked eyes with Hill, deadly serious. 

The stern woman met his gaze, and he could see she didn’t doubt him, but she didn’t back down. “You’re right, Nick, but where else can we take him? We can’t exactly deal with this on a motel couch.” 

“Oh god...” Natasha had arrived, looking a little pale herself, but making no attempt to conceal her rampant worry as she fell to Steve’s side and clasped his hand. “Steve...” 

Thor itched to know what had gone down here. He glanced up and spotted the soot-covered newcomer joining the fray, a scuffed t-shirt hugging defined muscles – a fighter. 

“That’s Sam,” Natasha caught his stare. “A friend.” 

Thor gave him a nod. 

“We can’t just wait around while we look for somewhere to take him,” Hill was saying into her comm. “Nick, he hasn’t got that kind of time. He needs surgery _ now. _We have to get him to a hospital. We can find somewhere safe to lay low when he’s out of hot water.” 

Thor set his jaw and wrapped his cloak back around Steve’s shivering body, picking him off the sand and standing. “He will be safe, wherever we go. I will not leave him.” 

Natasha followed, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Thor, it’s not that simple.” 

“It can be,” he replied. “It must be.” They couldn’t afford to wait around debating options that clearly weren’t available. 

The device in his ear crackled, and he winced. A new, familiar voice joined in. “You’d better hope there’s a good reason I’m learning about this from the news and didn’t get a call.” Tony. “Take him to the tower. I’ve got a full surgical suite there.” 

Natasha smiled. “Never thought I’d be glad to be on the receiving end of one of your invasive hacks, Stark.” 

“You’re welcome,” Tony scoffed over the line. “Stop chattering and get Spangles up here.” 

Thor was already adjusting his grip on Steve’s body, sitting him in the crook of one arm and reaching for Mjolnir. “Meet me there,” he ordered, and shot into the sky before the others could stop him. He could get to Avengers Tower before a helicopter. Any time he could buy Steve might make the difference. That was something he didn’t want to think too much about. _ Hang on, Steve. _

Too late. He’d been too late to stop whatever had happened here. Clearly it hadn’t be a long-running problem, if Tony hadn’t heard about it until just now, and had had to hack his way into the communication systems to get involved. 

Steve first, details later. Thor landed on the helipad as gently as possible, leaving Mjolnir by the door and running inside. JARVIS let him in, and Tony was waiting, a little disheveled. 

“I take it you have no clue what happened either,” the inventor cast a glance at Steve’s limp body and kept pace with the god, racing for the elevator. JARVIS picked a floor without prompting. 

“None,” Thor confirmed. 

“JARVIS, let our guests in when they land, get them down to medical,” Tony burst out the elevator and into the corridor, sliding on the clean floor and into a dark room. The light blinked on, revealing a fully-equipped OR. “Put him there.” 

Thor obeyed, setting Steve’s large frame on the table and unwrapping his cloak, tossing it out of the way. He grabbed the Captain’s uniform and unceremoniously ripped it off, pulling away the fabric to expose damp white skin blossoming with bruises. 

“JARVIS, get me a scan!” Tony shoved wires into Thor’s hand and ripped off Steve’s boots and uniform pants, leaving the Captain prone and almost naked in just his boxers. 

“It won’t matter what facilities you have if you don’t have any doctors to use them!” Fury was calling through the earpiece, his voice ringing through the room as JARVIS patched him into the tower network. “Stark!” 

The engineer looked up as Thor as he tossed over some packages of dressings. “You trust me?” 

“Of course,” Thor agreed as he pressed electrodes into place and connected the wires. “But Fury is right: it matters not what instruments are available if we cannot use them.” 

“JARVIS, what’s the score,” Tony plugged in the vitals machine while Thor applied pressure to the Captain’s stomach. 

“I am detecting three bullets,” the AI calmly relayed, the information popping up on holographic screens that Tony was pulling up around the room. “Captain Rogers is suffering from massive arterial bleeding and a serious concussion.” 

“We’ve got Steve’s blood type in storage,” Tony nodded. “Show me the bullets, J.” 

“_ Tony! _” Fury, again. The inventor ignored him. 

The screens showed everything there was to know about the situation, and Thor flicked his gaze between each, processing what he was seeing. He spotted three small orange dots located over an outline of Steve’s form. 

“We can get those out,” Tony whipped around and leaned over the bed. “We’re gonna fix you right up, Cap, don’t you worry.” 

Tony sounded worried. But he was putting on a brave face. Thor admired the man for that, and appreciated his rampant confidence. It was a reassurance. If anybody could make sure Steve got through this it was him. 

Natasha was here. She burst into the room, Sam on her heels. “What can I do?” she hurried over, dropping her jacket on the floor. The spy was rummaging for supplies before she got her answer. 

“Put pressure on the bleeding,” Tony ordered. “Keep him still.” He cast a glance at Sam, but said nothing. 

Fury and Hill were joining them, shutting the door behind them. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Stark,” the director kept his distance. 

“Course I do,” Tony quipped. “Or, JARVIS does.” 

The truth was, none of them were surgeons. Steve probably needed one. Thor pushed, fighting to at least slow the blood flow while he ignored Steve’s breathless cries. 

“Shh, Steve, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” Natasha pushed one hand into his shoulder and sacrificed the other to hold his forehead. “You have to be still.” 

Thor leaned his weight across the Captain’s bucking hips, knowing he was the only person strong enough to restrain the super-soldier. Hill jumped in and wove her arms around Natasha, pressing her whole weight onto Steve’s injured arm. Sam threw his body across the soldier’s legs and held as tight as he could. 

The restraint only spurred Steve to fight harder. He nearly managed to throw off Hill, but Natasha pulled away from his bleeding shoulder and helped pin him down. Tony abandoned the IV bag he was prepping to help. There was no way they’d get through this if Steve didn’t calm down. The only thing was, he clearly wasn’t conscious, fighting them on pure instinct and fueled by pain which they could provide little relief for. 

“Sir, Captain Rogers is dangerous close to cardiac arrest and hypovolemic shock,” JARVIS intervened. 

“Noted,” Tony grunted. “God, Cap... J, get me Iron Man.” 

“Sir, excessive force may compound his fractures.” 

“That’ll be the least of our worries if he bleeds to death!” Tony yelled, and the AI made no further comment, presumably sending for the suit. 

Thor closed his eyes, doing his best to put pressure on the Captain’s belly while holding him still. It wasn’t easy. He reached out for Mjolnir, threading through its bridge and connecting with Steve’s consciousness. The wall of sheer panic that struck his soul drew a wince into his face. There was almost no coherent thought in the mess of emotions slamming into him like a tidal wave. 

_ Steve! Steve, it’s me. You need to be still. Please, I have you. Tony is here, so is Natasha. Another friend of yours, Sam. We’re all here. We’re going to help you. Please, be still. _He fought back the rolling tides of fear and pain, batting them aside with his own conscious will and reaching out with strong love and comfort. 

The Captain’s body stilled for a moment or two, and Natasha spoke softly to him. “That’s it Steve, easy...” he continued to resists. 

_ Relax, Steve... please. You’re hurt. We can’t help you if you don’t relax. _

_ Thor? _ No resentment, just a simple question in return. A weak but familiar voice pushed through their connection. When Thor opened his eyes, the Captain was looking at him, neck strained as far as it would go, damp, hazy eyes peering between swollen eyelids. 

Thor smiled at him. _ Yes. Yes, Steve. Relax. I will be here. I will not leave. Squeeze my hand, cry if you have to, but please be still. _

“There we go... easy, Steve, that’s it...” Natasha continued to coax. Steve was already giving in, eyes rolling back into his head and his muscles falling limp. His entire frame sagged, just as Iron Man flew into the room and assembled next to Tony. The inventor sighed in relief and gave the machine a vague waving gesture, shooing it from the room. Obediently, the armor swept back out, returning to wherever Tony kept it. Everyone snapped back to work. 

Thor sighed and lifted his elbows, driving his hands back into his designated wound. He caught Natasha staring knowingly in his direction as she packed gauze into her friend’s shoulder. “What did you do?” she breathed. 

Thor shrugged. “It must have been your words that soothed him.” There was no way he could explain the link between himself and the Captain, even if Steve hadn’t asked him to keep their shared worthiness of Mjolnir a secret. 

The spy snorted and shook her head. 

Tony was setting an IV, taping the port in place on Steve’s uninjured arm. 

“You sure you know what you’re doing, Stark?” Fury questioned. 

“My title of ‘genius’ isn’t for shits and giggles,” Tony replied, hooking up a bag of blood, and another of various fluids, setting the flow rate as per JARVIS’s instruction. Thor hoped there were some painkillers in there. “Not the first time I’ve done this. And I’m pretty sure everybody in this room can start an IV.” 

Thor nodded in agreement, and the others joined in. It wasn’t so odd that this small group had skills in that department. 

“How’s the internal damage look, J? What do we need?” Tony dragged over a cart of supplies and peered over Steve’s stomach. Thor drew back his hands slowly and peeled away soaked pads. A gruesome hole lay beneath, continually oozing. Tony winced. 

“My scans show Captain Rogers is already healing,” the AI explained, the screens around them blipping with live data. “A couple of stitches in the right places will be enough. And of course plenty of rest.” 

“You mind?” Tony looked up at Thor. “I... don’t really want to stick my hand in Cap’s guts.” 

Understandable. Nobody in this room would prefer to carry out such a task, but Thor had seen plenty of gore in his time. The sight didn’t faze him, even if his heart ached that it was Steve’s body torn apart and not some faceless lackey of an opposing army. The prince nodded and replaced his hands over the wound while Tony went to get some supplies ready. 

“Sir, the Captain’s vitals are still dropping.” JARVIS alerted with mild urgency. 

“Come on Steve...” Sam muttered, his hands clamped around his friend’s bleeding leg. “Don’t do this...” 

“Steady, guys,” Tony dragged over another machine, one Thor vaguely recognized as a ventilator. He spotted a defibulator, too. “He’ll get through this. Come on, Cap, not the worst you’ve dealt with. Just another day on the job.” 

Thor reached out through Mjolnir again, summoning his strength and clutching the tendrils of Steve’s consciousness with his own warm grasp. _ You will not slip from me. I have you. We have many more adventures to enjoy before _ _ our _ _ end. _Tony was handing him supplies and moving back to study the displays, exchanging more words with JARVIS. The prince leaned over Steve’s open stomach and listened carefully to what the AI had to say. The procedure was not pleasant, but he got it done with steady hands, and nobody questioned his proficiency. He just about got the last stitch in place to seal up the skin before Steve’s labored breathing shuddered and died to nothing. 

Fury wisely chose not to say anything, but he did step forward to help as Hill leapt into chest compressions and Tony reached for the ventilator. “What can I do?” the director asked. 

“You can sit your ass down,” Tony replied, and Thor had to agree there was likely nothing the man could do with his injured arm. _So__ Fury was involved too, directly. How unusual for him to be in the thick of the fighting._

“Tony, we’re not getting anything!” Natasha pleaded. 

Thor pulled back from his work, abandoning Steve’s mostly-stitched stomach and nudging Hill out of the way. Steve had stronger bones, could take the harder force. He dug the heel of his palm into the Captain’s ribs, carefully balancing his strength so as not to shatter them. One, two, three, nothing. “Come on, Steven.” More compressions. Natasha did the breaths, leaning over Steve and joining their lips. 

“Sir, intubating can be a dangerous process if done incorrectly.” JARVIS was advising Stark. The inventor was moving in. 

“Save it, J, just tell me what to do, and make it quick.” 

Thor focused on his mission, seeking out Steve’s consciousness. _ Come on Steven. Come on. Come back. I was too late to keep you safe, but I will not be too late to save you. I love you, please. Hold on to me. _

Tony had intubated successfully, switching on the machine. Thor hadn’t doubted for a minute the engineer would have managed the task. Breath was forced into Steve’s body, but his heart remained in stubborn resistance. Before Tony could charge the defibulator, Thor was curling his hands together in a ball and jamming them down against Steve’s chest with a pulse of crackling blue, the jolt curling his love’s spine off the table. 

There was a brief pause, the other occupants staring on in silent shock. Thor stood in place, his fists raised in preparation to do it again. He didn’t have to. 

Steve’s eyes flew open, and his heart lurched back into motion, thudding weakly against his bruised chest. JARVIS proclaimed success, and Fury turned away, leaning against the wall in relief. Everybody else hopped to work. 

Thor leaned forward, resting his hand on the Captain’s head and pressing a kiss into the bridge of his nose. He ignored the others in the room. “Rest,” he ordered softly, but it didn’t look like Steve would have managed to keep his eyes open much longer regardless. Eyelids fell shut, concealing weary blue beneath. A quick glance at the monitors confirmed that Steve was just unconscious, not fading away. Unwell, but stable. He would survive. Thor returned to his work, helping close up the multitude of wounds marring the Captain’s body. 

They’d done it. Fury looked like he could hardly believe it as the team finished up. The director walked over, standing by Steve’s feet while Sam taped down the last loop of bandage, and Thor helped Tony slide some pajama pants onto the soldier’s legs. 

“That was a risky bet, Stark,” Fury said quietly. 

“Wanna tell me why it was necessary in the first place?” Tony lifted an accusatory eyebrow. “Does anybody want to explain why my friend looks like that?” 

Thor nodded solemnly in agreement, fixing Fury with a too-calm stare. He very much wanted to know why Steve was in this serious shape, and why if things had gotten so bad Tony hadn’t been called to help. 

Fury looked between the two of them and sighed, grasping the bed rail. He watched Natasha draw a blanket across Steve’s body, tucking it up to his chest. “There was no time to assemble the Avengers,” he explained. “We made due with what we had. We got the job done.” 

“And the job was...?” Tony prompted. 

“Making sure HYDRA didn’t kill millions of people,” Hill stepped in. “They infiltrated SHIELD. We were on our own. We didn’t know who to trust.” 

Thor gripped the bed rail hard enough to bend it, sliding his fingers around Steve’s. “Was it not HYDRA he gave his life to end?” 

Natasha nodded grimly, rubbing her thumb into Steve’s forearm. “We should get him settled. We can talk about this later. I’m wiped.” 

“I second that,” Sam agreed. “Got somewhere we can crash?” the man looked to Tony, and the inventor nodded tiredly, indicating the door with his thumb. 

“Guest room. JARVIS will take you. He’ll let you know when food’s here, or if anything changes with Cap.” Tony stopped the man before he could leave, holding out his hand. “Hey... thanks for keeping an eye on him. Wish I was there, but I’m glad he had help.” 

Sam nodded and accepted the hand. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t keep him from getting hurt.” 

Tony shrugged. “Guy’s an idiot. But he bounces back. He’s strong. He’ll be okay.” 

_ That he will be, _ Thor agreed fondly, stroking dusty blonde tufts and resting his knuckles against the warm, swollen skin framing Steve’s eye. “Who did this to him...” 

Natasha touched his arm and glanced at Tony. “It’s not that simple.” 

“Explain to me how, exactly,” Tony retorted, wheeling up a bed. Thor lifted Steve off the bloody sheets as carefully as possible and settled him on the clean ones. All the equipment came along for the ride as they maneuvered the bed out the door and into a room. Natasha sank into a chair, exhaustion lines cutting into her face. Thor brought his cape and draped the heavy cloth around her shoulders. 

“Rest,” he suggested. “You can explain later.” 

Natasha nodded, already letting her head drop. She was asleep in seconds. 

The room hung in silence. Tony sighed, sagging. The adrenaline that had fueled them through the surgery was leaving them both. “God... he looks terrible,” the inventor heaved. 

“He will recover with rest, as always,” Thor calmly remarked. “Thank you. You performed remarkably.” 

Tony batted a hand. “S’nothin’. Wasn’t there when he needed me.” 

“Neither was I,” Thor replied. “But you were left uninformed. You did what you could. You saved him.” 

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t take credit for that,” Tony huffed, a laugh without amusement. “You guys did a good job too.” 

“And your clear head and rapid decision-making guided us,” Thor nodded. “You may be impulsive, but you make a good leader in crisis. Sometimes quick-thinking without pondering consequences is needed.” 

Tony actually smiled. “Thanks.” 

“Perhaps you should rest as well. I can watch him,” Thor offered, and Tony relented, leaving the room. The inventor returned with two more chairs, and together they settled down to keep vigil. 

\-- 

“You did _ what?” _ Clint’s incredulity was well-placed, Thor had to admit. They’d played a risky ball game. 

Tony shrugged. “We handled it.” 

“I guess if you’re gonna practice surgery, Steve’s a good guy to do it on,” Clint snorted, handing out food and taking his place in the chair next to Natasha. He looked tired, and slightly out of breath. 

“Not like we had much choice,” Tony countered. 

“Could have brought him to a hospital,” Clint suggested, unwrapping the sandwich he’d brought up from the delivery guy at the front entrance. 

“Hospital was ‘compromised’, as you’d put it,” the inventor retorted. “He’s safer here.” 

“Between you, Nat, and Thor, I think he’d have been fine,” Clint raised an eyebrow. 

“And me,” Sam chimed. 

“It matters not,” Thor started on the food Tony had ordered them. “He will recover.” 

Everyone agreed quietly, working on their lunch around the bed. Fury and Hill had made their departure immediately after the hard work was over and it was clear Steve would pull through, heading off to take care of SHIELD business, whatever _ that _ meant. Now, the Avengers were assembled in a little room in the med bay of the tower, catching up. 

“Bruce will be here in a few hours,” Tony checked his watch, leaning against the wall by Steve’s head. He hadn’t left the room, but had given up his chair the instant Barton staggered through the door, worn out from his most recent mission and his frantic rush to get here. Sam had taken the briefest of naps before returning to the room and planting himself at Steve’s bedside. Natasha had woken up shortly after, stretching in her chair and drawing Thor’s cloak off her shoulders, pulling it across Steve’s body instead. 

“Now might be a good time to fill us in,” Clint suggested, looking to Natasha. 

Everybody cared more about who had beaten their Captain within an inch of his life than they did about the fall of SHIELD, but Natasha gave them the details regardless, a thoughtless hand on her sore shoulder. “HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD decades ago,” she explained calmly. “They tried to kill Fury, and when they failed to kill Steve, they pinned the Director’s supposed death on him and tried to turn him into a fugitive. They were going to use an algorithm to pick off potential threats before they happened, using the helicarriers.” 

“And you didn’t think to call me,” Tony stared at Steve’s bruised eye, haunted. 

“We didn’t have time,” Natasha calmly retorted. “SHIELD was down. We couldn’t risk making calls.” 

Tony didn’t seem that pleased, but he didn’t argue, for once. “And what happened to Steve?” 

Natasha actually paused. “The Winter Soldier,” she replied quietly, immediately staring up at Thor as the prince clenched his fists. “I know you’re mad, but just hear me out. This isn’t someone you can just run off and kill, even if you could find him.” 

“And why not?” Tony lifted his eyebrow questioningly. “He’s one of HYDRA’s guys, right?” 

Clint frowned. “I’ve heard of him, read about some of his work. He’s one of the deadliest assassins in history.” 

“And he’s Steve’s friend,” Sam quickly interjected. “_ Best _ friend.” 

“James Barnes?” Thor furrowed his brow with confusion. “He is dead. It is unlikely he could have survived a fall as was described.” This wasn’t a joke, and he doubted it was a mistake. _ There must be some explanation, for Steve’s sake. _ His heart trembled in sympathy. This ordeal was more than a firefight between large, faceless forces – this was personal. 

“Well, I guess he survived,” Sam continued. “Made him a metal arm, -” all eyes lingered on Steve’s beaten face - “brainwashed him. Steve said he didn’t remember him.” 

“Where is he now?” Tony asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but not managing to conceal his anger. 

“He could be anywhere. We didn’t find his body, and it’s safe to assume that Steve didn’t finish him off,” Natasha frowned in thought. “If he got away, he’s probably in hiding.” 

They all thought about that for a moment before Tony turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his eyes burning with intent. Thor followed, easily matching pace with the shorter man. He felt just as angry as the inventor looked. 

They walked all the way to Tony’s workshop before his friend spoke. “Whatever you think I’m doing, you’re probably wrong,” he snatched a Starkpad from the nearest surface and swatted a holographic screen into the air. 

“I am just as angry as you are,” Thor replied, finding calmness deep inside him. “Someone has hurt my Captain, and I want nothing more than to seek justice, but this Winter Soldier is not to blame.” 

“Yeah, HYDRA is, I know,” Tony growled. “Which means we had better find the guy before they do.” 

“And what will you do when you find him?” 

“I’ll...” Tony paused. “I’ll bring him back.” 

Thor smiled. “I think Steve would like that very much.” 

The inventor shooed him with a hand. “Go take care of your other half, big guy.” 

\-- 

Apparently, their apartment had been destroyed. Natasha explained this as she and Clint announced they were off to clear it out. They would bring everything back to the tower. 

“Thank you,” Thor smiled and watched them go. 

It was just him and Sam, now. The other man appeared quite at ease in this environment, surrounded by Avengers. 

“I hear you fought valiantly,” Thor offered him a proud nod. “You have my thanks.” 

“Yeah, we did okay for a bunch of mortals,” Sam smiled good-naturedly. “Besides, when Captain America comes knocking, you’d better have a damn good reason not to open the door.” 

“Indeed,” Thor chuckled and pressed one hand on top of Steve’s, lacing their fingers and sliding his other hand underneath. Sam lifted his eyebrows knowingly at the sight and nodded. 

“Yeah... I thought so,” he mused with a sly smile. “I asked him about his team when we had the chance to chat. First mention of you and he turned into a tomato. Got this faraway look in his eyes. Never knew Captain America would be such a romantic.” 

“The tales I could tell of that,” Thor laughed, growing a little pink himself. “What did he say of me?” 

“Oh, just that you were the noblest warrior he’d ever met. Said something’ about being a kindred spirit. That type of thing,” Sam shrugged. “Something kind of obvious, but trying not to be.” 

Of course. Sometimes Thor wondered why they had ever bothered trying to keep their relationship on the low. It seemed to take anyone who caught sight of them less than a minute to deduce what was going on between them. Apart from Barton, of course. How the archer had missed this was truly a mystery. 

“Perhaps you can tell me the tales of your battles,” Thor suggested. He wanted very much to hear about it, and any other stories the soldier might have to share. 

“Yeah, he told me you like a good war story,” Sam chuckled. “I got a few. Heard you have some yourself.” 

“Of course,” Thor scoffed. “I have a great many tales of battles across the nine realms.” He liked this man, and he could see why Steve liked him, too. 

It was easy to make friends with the newcomer. They quickly settled into casual conversation about past fights, Sam intrigued to know more about adventures only hinted at during his short time of friendship with the Captain. Thor obliged, regaling the grand battles of Sakaar, their quest to retrieve the tesseract, and of course their victory against the dark elves. There were a few smaller fights in between, too, against threats the Avengers had easily quashed. Thor made sure to leave out details he knew Steve wouldn’t want shared. Sam enjoyed each tale quietly, interjecting only to comment on a particular feature of Steve he’d noticed throughout his own time with the Captain. 

Eventually, Tony returned, opening the door midway through Thor’s enthusiastic recounting of his struggle against the dark elf Malekith. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tony strode in, “just here to do the rounds.” 

“Of course, Doctor,” Thor moved to allow better access to the machines, but kept his hands firmly wrapped around Steve’s. Over the last couple of hours, his partner had slowly regained a little more color, the blue tinge to his lips melting away, and a healthy pink rising in his cheeks. It wasn’t enough, but it was something to wash away fear that this time Captain America would not get back up. It was perhaps a foolish thought, but one he could not completely remove from his mind when Steve was badly hurt. 

“Bruce will be here in about an hour,” Tony checked his watch and fiddled with the IV drip. The blood transfusion was over. He replaced the empty bag with another filled with clear liquid. 

“You have done well without him,” Thor smiled encouragingly. 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Tony scoffed. “Hey, wouldya look at that, Cap’s on the mend.” He nudged his thumb proudly in the direction of the monitors, relief glistening in his eyes. 

Though far from ideal, they were certainly doing a lot better than before. Cap would be fine. _ As always. Yet I was not there to ensure such healing was necessary. _

He was here now. That’s what the god kept telling himself. Whatever had already happened was of no consequence; he could only change what was happening in the present. 

“Well, I’m gonna leave you guys to it,” Sam stood up. “Let me know when he wakes up. My number’s in Cap’s phone, wherever it is. I’ll be back round to visit, there’s just something I have to do. Tell him I said hi, will you?” 

“I will pass along your good wishes,” Thor agreed with a smile, and bid the man farewell. 

Tony made his final adjustments, removing Steve from the ventilator as per JARVIS’ instructions. He hovered by the bed, grasping the railings with a painful guilt in his eyes that Thor recognized. The inventor rocked back on his heels a little, lips tight. “We should never have disbanded,” he murmured, and Thor agreed in solemn silence. 

Tony gave Steve’s hand a squeeze and took his leave, proclaiming he had work to do. Thor didn’t miss the slight tremble in his hands as he gave a small wave and shut the door. 

With an unsteady hand of his own, Thor rubbed his face, inspecting Steve’s fingers wrapped gently in the other. Waiting never got any easier. The prince sighed and stood up, pulling out his hair as he walked to the door and back. He paused at the foot of the bed and stared at the monitors. Steve’s vitals flickered across them, faint beeps paired with the Captain’s short breaths. Frustration rose from his stomach and spread through his chest and arms, ending in his fingers. He curled his hands into fists so tightly that his large frame shook with the strain. Muscles leaped across his back. It wouldn’t have fixed anything, but he’d have felt a little better if he could have laid out whoever had done this to Steve. 

Unfortunately, he doubted Steve would appreciate it if the prince beat up his long-lost best friend, regardless of circumstance. _ It is truly a crime that you were forced to fight him. _ Thor wondered how much of a fight Steve had actually put up, though, given how badly hurt he’d come out of it. _ If you were turned against me somehow, I too would struggle to fight you sincerely. I would even allow you to cause me harm, if it meant protecting you. _

Thor suppressed his urges to pace and stomp and hit something, searching instead for something practical to do. There’s wasn’t much. The prince flexed his fists as he scanned the hospital room. Even a small, innocuous object to fiddle with would be better than nothing. His eyes roved the monitors and equipment, and he was just about to ask JARVIS if there was anything the AI could suggest he do when his eyes locked onto Steve’s shiny, swollen cheek bone. He knew what he could do. 

It took a lot of force to break Steve, and a lot of skill to actually catch him. Someone must have bashed him repeatedly to leave a mark like that, and crack the bone beneath. Thor slipped out of the room and into the nearby bathroom, easily finding a glass and some cloths. He filled the glass with cool water and soaked one of the cloths, wringing it out before bringing it back into the room. Silently, he resumed his position back in the chair and folded the cloth into a neat rectangle, pressing the damp fabric into Steve’s eye socket. Thor glanced at the holographic displays hovering around the bed. He spotted the x-ray, noting small bright lines indicating fractures smattered throughout Steve’s body. Thor suspected a fall had caused them, the way they wrapped around his spine between the shoulder blades. Already some of the smaller cracks were visibly lessened. A few minor marks in his ribs, another in his leg, all fading as the serum chugged away like it was designed to do. 

_ You’ll be very hungry for a couple of weeks, I suspect, _ Thor mused with a thoughtful huff and a slight smile. 

Steve drew in a shuddery breath and tightly furrowed his eyebrows, a small whine slipping out his throat. Thor nearly knocked over his chair as he leapt out of it, swiping the cloth off the Captain’s eye and holding it against his forehead, squeezing the hand in his grip and watching dark eyelashes slowly fight their way off flushed cheeks. Blue eyes he’d missed so much peered up at the ceiling, filled with haze and confusion. They rolled sideways, landing on the prince and holding there. Recognition and awareness melted away some of the confusion, but the Captain still didn’t look entirely with reality. He looked sad and weak and sore. 

Thor smiled at him, searching for a good place to touch, somewhere that wouldn’t aggravate the soldier’s wounded body. He settled his hand against Steve’s pale cheek and rubbed his thumb across the skin. 

“Where’s’ths,” Steve mumbled, and Thor severely hoped some of the medicine Tony had given him was causing that slurred speech and delirious gaze. “We win?” 

He’d heard enough about the attack to give a confident reply. “Yes, we won,” Thor assured quietly. “We are in the tower. Do you remember?” 

Steve narrowed his eyes like he was trying to think, familiarity bubbling up through the confusion. “S’everyone okay?” 

“Yes,” Thor smiled. “We are all well. All of us but you.” 

“Oh.” That seemed fine to Steve. The soldier let his eyelids sink a little closer together, some of the tightness of his expression fading away. Just as relief seemed to be guiding him back to sleep, the taught lines of pain returned and he winced, shifting against the pillows as if he couldn’t get comfortable. 

Thor stilled him with a hand to his chest, fingers resting carefully against bruised skin. “Are you in pain?” he asked quietly, which was likely a stupid question, but needed to be asked. 

“Mmhm,” Steve murmured, teeth pressed together and his lips sealed, as if letting an admission through his barriers would somehow make the pain worse, and that if he could deny and ignore it, eventually it would go away. He was trembling under the prince’s touch. 

Thor gently folded Steve’s injured arm over his stomach and drew his cape up higher, tucking the thick fabric around the Captain’s shoulders and sides, but leaving his other arm on top. The shaking eased a little. Thor pushed the cloth back down over Steve’s swollen eye and compressed it a little with his palm. “Better?” 

“Uh-huh.” Steve’s other eye fell shut, and he was asleep. 

\-- 

Doctor Banner was going to be late. Tony came to deliver the news and check up on their patient. He set a thermos of soup and some crackers by the bed. “For Steve,” he explained. “He wake up yet?” 

“Briefly,” Thor nodded, taking the container of curry handed to him with a grateful nod. 

The morphine was almost empty. Tony hooked up another bag and fidgeted mindlessly with a clamp. “I never, ever want to do that again,” he admitted wearily. 

“He would have been safe in a hospital,” Thor assured. “You did not have to take such a burden upon yourself.” Even if HYDRA had come back to finish the job, they’d have had to get through the Avengers to do it. 

Tony pushed at his disheveled hair, grasping the bedrail for stability. “He’s safer here. Hill’s right, we don’t know who to trust. Besides, it’s more private here, and he hates hospitals. He heals faster if he’s happier.” 

Thor couldn’t deny that. He nodded in agreement. If he were in Tony’s place, knowing he could have helped but forced to face the aftermath and envision what might have been different had he been present, he would be shaken too. He _ was _ shaken. They were both doing what they could now that the fight was over. Tony took his leave again, and the room was still. 

It was only another hour later when Steve woke up for the second time, a little more focus in his eyes, and unfortunately a fair bit more discomfort. The prince watched Steve’s expression carefully as the soldier came around, searching for that aggressive denial he’d been faced with before his departure. He found frustration there, and for a moment didn’t notice that Steve was trying to sit. 

He had to be in terrible pain, probably all over. “No, Steve,” Thor breathed, once again resting his hand in the middle of his lover’s heaving chest and easily ceasing the motion. Steve was too weak to fight him, and didn’t look pleased about it. But he stared up apologetically, panting for breath. Thor searched for the controls and raised the bed as high as it would go. 

“S’over?” Steve breathed, and his slurred words sounded more tired than drugged. 

“Indeed it is,” Thor agreed, sitting back in his chair and pulling away the cloth so he could wet it again. Silence fell over them as the prince wrung water out of the compress and folded it, resting it back over Steve’s eye. It seemed to be helping. 

“Thanks,” the soldier rasped, clutching a handful of cape in a tight fist. His uncovered eye worked its way up to the space around the bed, noticing Tony’s blue holographic displays surrounding him. He focused blearily on the outline of his body, squinting at the image. Before he could take in all the details, the holograms swept away on their own. 

“Welcome back, Captain,” JARVIS greeted calmly, perhaps sounding a tad guilty. Sometimes Thor wondered if Tony had them all fooled, that his AI was not a computer at all, but a real person. “Shall I fetch Mister Stark for you?” 

“Tell him Steven is awake,” Thor nodded before the Captain could reply. “He will want to know.” 

“I will alert him,” JARVIS agreed. 

“S’everybody here?” Steve asked quietly. 

“Almost,” Thor agreed softly. “Bruce is on his way. Natasha and Clint have gone to clean out our apartment. Sam left to tend to other matters. But they will return.” 

As much as Steve preferred to maintain his privacy when it came to his injuries, he seemed relieved, perhaps even happy that all his friends were nearby. He sighed and wheezed out a poorly-suppressed moan of pain. Perhaps the medications weren’t doing as much as it had earlier appeared. Thor reached for Steve’s hand and squeezed it. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked. 

“Little,” Steve nodded. “When’d you get back?” No accusation, no demands, just pure curiosity. Small talk, even. 

“Only hours ago,” Thor explained, unwrapping a package of crackers. “I arrived to find you on the riverbank.” 

“Fell,” Steve murmured, his eyelids threatening to shut again as he opened his mouth. Before Thor could push a cracker between his lips, his eyes widened and his body tensed with alarm. “Buck.” 

“So I heard,” Thor calmly replied, offering up a sympathetic smile. “But we can worry about that later, when you are well.” 

“He’s out there...” Steve whined, turning his head away from the food. “Gotta find him.” 

“We will,” Thor nodded. “We will help you. Tony searches for him now. But you will do him no good in your condition. The more you rest, the sooner you can look. He would not want you to endanger yourself.” He didn’t know that, couldn’t possibly; he’d never met the man. But if everything Steve had told him about Barnes, then he had to be right. 

Steve believed it, shivering and opening his mouth again. Thor added a spoonful of soup to the dry cracker and watched the soldier chew his mouthful for an eternity. He would probably look distraught if he weren’t so damn pale and exhausted. A little nauseated, too. Steve eyed the next offered dose of soup with a hesitant stare before finally accepting it and swallowing gingerly. A couple more, and he became more readily accepting of the food. He must have realized how hungry he was, and that the soup was warming him up from the inside. Thor offered him some water to wash it down. 

“Perhaps more rest,” he suggested gently, setting the glass aside and touching Steve’s wrist. “It would do you good.” 

Steve didn’t answer, his teeth locked together tightly. He squirmed a little on the bed, as if he couldn’t get comfortable. The pain must likely teetering on the edge of unbearable, and there would be no escape from it, no side of his body less abused that he could favor. Thor squeezed his hand. 

“Can anything be done?” he asked quietly, fearing the answer. “I can find Tony, ask him to bring you more medicine-” he started to rise, but Steve’s hand snapped out and locked around his wrist. 

The sudden startled movement ripped a gasp from the Captain’s lips. Thor sat down again and moved closer, waiting patiently with upturned eyebrows as Steve caught his breath and gathered his words. It took a couple of seconds before the shaking reply came. “N-no, don’t go.” 

“I will not,” Thor nodded resolutely. Now there was something he could do. “But perhaps I could find you some more medicine myself.” He could put more pain medications into the line, if JARVIS advised him the dosage. 

But Steve was shaking his head. “Won’t help,” he whispered. “Not gonna do more than this.” 

“That is wildly unsatisfactory,” Thor whispered. “What can I bring you?” 

“’nother blanket, maybe,” Steve murmured, offering up a bashful smile. “Please?” 

“I will return shortly,” Thor agreed readily and headed for the door with long strides. 

First, a detour. That room was hopelessly barren. If the pain could not be removed, he would just have to help Steve ignore it. Thor raced to Steve’s room and gathered a pack of cards, a couple of novels from the shelf, and a sketch book and pencils. After a small pause, he grabbed a shirt, too. He’d forgotten to change out of his armor. 

That seemed sufficient for now. Hopefully, this would get Steve through a few days of bedrest. Of course, there were still plenty of movies on their must-watch list, so that would help. Thor hoped it would be enough as he pulled a duvet out of the laundry closet and tucked it under his other arm. Then, he got his legs under him and started to race back to the med-bay. 

Something didn’t feel right. Thor slowed to a jog and swept the empty corridors with his gaze. Everything was quiet. Of course, this was a large tower housing very few residents, many of which were elsewhere occupied, the other two engrossed in work or out for the count. Still... a thousand-year-old intuition was tapping on the inside of his chest. 

_ Foolish. This tower is very secure. Tony protects it with advanced technology beyond what most humans can comprehend. We are safe here. _Thor still searched each intersection when the hallway split, unable to shake the sense of unease starting to prepare his battle reflexes. The elevator was in sight. The lights flickered. 

Thor dropped what he was holding and whirled, slamming his fist into a black mask. The man wearing it slid along the shiny floor and dented the wall it collided with, his skull crushed and his neck snapped. Thor took only a moment or two to observe what he was looking at, double-checking his instincts hadn’t accidentally gotten a friend killed. No – he was right on target. That looked like a HYDRA symbol stitched into the outfit. Dread dropped into his stomach and he blanched, whirling back to face the elevator. He could hear footsteps approaching. There was no time. Steve was alone, too injured and weak to defend himself. 

Thor snatched up the shirt he’d brought and forgot the other items, taking the stairs, opening the door without a sound, and leaping over the railing. He dropped through the stairwell and landed as lightly as he was able (which was quite lightly, he would note), many floors below. Tony would forgive the small dent, surely. Wasting no time, the demigod opened the door to the correct floor and ran into the med-bay, sliding into Steve’s room and shutting the door behind him. To his relief, Steve was still there, propped up in bed, panting and squeezing Thor’s cape still tucked around his shivering frame. 

The Captain looked up at his return, brow furrowing when he saw the alarm greeting him. He opened his mouth, but Thor shook his head. “There are intruders in the tower. I do not know how they got in, but they are here.” 

“HYDRA,” Steve breathed, trying to sit up. His body failed him miserably, and the distance he did manage took all his effort and will-power. Thor reached over and stilled him. 

“They will not get through me,” his eyebrows quirked. “And Tony is here. You will be safe between the two of us.” 

Ideally, his battle plan would consist of stomping through the hallways daring any intruder to show themselves and put up a fair fight, but of course he couldn’t leave Steve, and he doubted the enemy would comply. It would be wise to keep the fight away from Steve altogether, to remove the risk of him getting caught in the crossfire. The Captain was too badly hurt to defend himself or risk adding other injuries to his already lengthy list. 

Thor opened his hand for his hammer, before quickly releasing his hold when he realized the weapon was several floors up, by the helipad. If Mjolnir came sailing to him now, he would lead the enemy right to them. Stealth would be wise. First, he had to decide if Steve was safe in this room or not. “JARVIS,” he called quietly, hoping the voice could hear him. “I must see who is in the tower, and where they are. Can you show them to me?” The computer man did not respond. He tried again, as loud as he dared. “JARVIS, I require your assistance.” 

Nothing. He glanced to the door, superhuman ears picking up on distant footfalls, his eyes spotting a flicker in the shadows. They weren’t safe here. 

Steve was at least lucid, already fumbling with the tape holding his IV in his arm. His fingers pawed uselessly at the thin transparent covering. Thor brushed him aside and did it himself, pulling out the tube and pressing Steve’s hand over the bleeding hole. He pulled the blankets lower and unclipped the electrode wires, removing the blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter while he was at it. Steve shivered, weak but unafraid. 

Thor sat him off the pillows, grabbing the shirt he’d brought and aiming the Captain’s injured arm through first. He pulled the garment on and folded the blankets off Steve’s pj-clad legs. “We must hide,” he explained, and Steve nodded obediently, wrapping one arm around his stomach and draping the other across Thor’s shoulders. The prince slipped one arm behind his back and the other under his knees, lifting him smoothly off the bed and dipping down on one knee. He tucked himself behind the bed and cradled Steve in his lap, holding the trembling man against his chest. Oh, HYDRA had made a _ deadly _ mistake. Part of him wished they would find him. He would show them how terribly misjudged this attack was. It would feel undeniably good to kills some of the scum responsible for Steve’s suffering. 

Footsteps approached, quiet but perceptible to Thor’s hearing, growing louder and louder each second. There was more than one set, maybe three or four, he guessed. The noises stopped by the door, and the prince hardly dared breath. Steve reached up and clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to mask his labored breathing. 

The door opened. Thor cast a glance sideways to make sure he’d tucked Steve’s legs behind their shelter. They were hidden. 

The bed was suddenly flung sideways, and a handful of bullets struck his armor from behind, crumpling pathetically on Asgardian steel. Thor set Steve on the floor and whirled around, dipping his head before a bullet could pierce it and leaping forward. Their faces were hidden, but their bodies conveyed surprise as the prince grabbed the nearest man and hurled him into the others before any more shots could be fired. His kicked away a fallen gun and stopped on the wrist holding another, easily shattering the bone under the force of his blow. The man howled, and Thor dropped, covering his mouth and punching him dead with one strike. 

At least no-one tried to flee. Thor would give them one small shred of dignity. It didn’t stop him from finished them all off though. The heel of his thick boot struck the next assailant in the middle of his chest, crushing it and rendering him breathless. He sailed across the room and out into the hallway, smacking the floor. He did not get up, motionless. The final man hesitated. Smart. He was reaching for his ear. “Thor’s back-” he started, but the god himself grabbed him by the head and smashed it into the floor, leaving a dent and a puddle of blood. 

“That I am,” Thor growled under his breath, turning and stalking back to the bed. 

Steve had pulled himself off the floor, his elbows resting on the chair as he dragged himself into it, out of breath and wincing. Thor took his arm and lifted him off the ground, sitting him down and checking him for new injuries. There were none. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

They needed a plan, and Steve, their best maker of plans, was definitely not in any shape for it. His eyes were unfocused, and his face twisted with pain. At least he was making the effort to stay awake though. Thor admired his strength. It truly knew no bounds. Still, no amount of will-power would suddenly render Steve clear-headed and well enough to fight. _ Then I must make a plan myself. _ Frankly, his plans usually consisted of charging in and destroying all enemies that needed destroying. Then again, those were typically what the situations in which he found himself called for. This was slightly out of his usual realm of expertise. _ It must be done. _

And so it would be. 

Keeping Steve safe was the main priority. He had to keep the fighting away from the soldier, and meanwhile track down a way of communicating with the others, letting them know they needed help. He couldn’t fight off the HYDRA agents inside the building and protect Steve, not with one hundred percent certainty he could shield the mortal. His body was only so big. It would be very easy for a stray bullet to add more damage to what had already almost killed the super-soldier. 

First step, he had to find some way of keeping track of the enemy’s whereabouts. Without JARVIS, he would have to employ other methods. Thor gave Steve’s shoulders a grounding, comforting squeeze and strode back to the bodies. He pulled off the mask of the nearest agent and removed his earpiece, sliding it into his own ear. He gave a deliberate cough to make sure he had properly turned off his mic, and did not hear a response. 

Voices were calling over the receiver. Thor paid close attention, keeping track of the number of people speaking as he removed a bullet-proof vest and unstrapped a holster from the nearest man. “Where is he! Answer me!” 

“Come in!” 

“No use, they’re down. We need to get down there and finish this.” 

“Thor’s here,” came the growled reply that curled a dark grin across the Asgardian’s face as he pried a gun from cold, stiff fingers and slid it into the holster. “There’s no way we can beat him.” 

“We don’t have to, we just have to kill Rogers. If enough of us attack at once, or we catch him off guard, that’s all we need. Besides, a shot to the head should finish anyone off. Even a god couldn’t survive that.” 

They were on their way. Thor straightened, hurrying back to Steve. “We must go,” he explained, sliding the vest over Steve’s head and easing his arms through, tightening the straps. “Come on, I will find us somewhere safe. Can you stand?” 

No, Steve couldn’t. But he tried. Thor set the holster on the bed and helped him, taking all the soldier’s weight. Steve was hunched, clutching his stomach, all the color drained from his face. But he leaned into Thor and propped his feet under him, determination in his expression, lips tight. “Tony...” he rasped. 

“Tony will be fine,” Thor replied, wrapping one arm around the Captain’s waist and grabbing the holster with the other. He wrapped the strap around Steve’s hips and did up the belt, adjusting it so the gun rested at the soldier’s left. “He has Iron Man, and is very resourceful.” Actually, Tony’s shop might be a good place to hide. It would be a lot easier to protect Steve if he had Iron Man to help. Iron Man also had the benefit of being bullet-proof. 

Paying close attention to his earpiece, Thor practically carried Steve to the door and nudged it open, checking the coast. It was clear. He led Steve out and down to the stairwell. They would be more exposed than in the elevator, but at least they wouldn’t trapped. 

Steve was in no shape for stairs, his legs wobbly and his limp deep-set as he tried to compensate for all his wounds. Thor didn’t bother trying to get him to walk down them. “Hang on,” he murmured, tucking Steve’s body close to him and grabbing the railing, swinging his legs over it. He pushed off, jumping to the floor below. Steve winced and gasped as his body was slammed against Thor’s armor, and the demigod whispered an apology. There was no helping it. He clutched Steve closer and leapt down another floor. A few floors up, he heard the sound of gunfire – the enemy had reached the med-bay, had probably found the bodies of their comrades and were making sure their targets weren’t hiding somewhere in the room. Thor reached the floor he wanted and set Steve on his feet, opening the door cautiously and peering around. They were safe. He shut the door behind him and padded quietly down the corridor. 

Steve shivered against him, but was doing his best to walk as quickly as he could. That wasn’t very fast at all, but he was giving it all his effort. Admirable, but sickening that it was necessary. 

“Almost there, Steve,” Thor encouraged, eyebrows upturned at the sound of the Captain’s bare feet slapping clumsily and unevenly on the laminate. His plan would have to end this as quickly as possible. Steve shouldn’t be on his feet. But at least he was conscious and appeared lucid. “Speak to me. How do you fare?” Their approach was already audible. Speaking out loud would endanger them no more than they already were. 

Steve swallowed, lips parted. He’d rested his hand on the gun at his hip, though, turning his head to peer around corners as they passed them. “Cold. Hurts. Nothin’ new.” 

“I can carry you if you require,” Thor offered, but Steve shook his head. 

“Can’t fight and carry me at once,” came the sage reply. If they were attacked, it would be easier to protect Steve or retaliate before shots were fired if the Captain was on his own two feet. It would be easy to draw the gun from Steve’s hip like this, if he had to. Mjolnir would be ideal, but he didn’t need it. Thor knew how to use a gun, and his aim was good. Not as good as Hawkeye’s, of course, and maybe not even as good as Steve’s, but good. He could hit a target. 

“Soup’s comin’ up,” Steve heaved, clamping his free hand over his mouth as he breathed in short hitches. 

Thor paused and bent his knees so Steve could rest on his shoulder a little better. “Breathe. In and out,” he coaxed, keeping his eyes and ears focused on his surroundings and the comm. “Is it the pain?” _ Is it your concussion? Perhaps the hole in your stomach. _Anger threatened to cloud his mind, but he didn’t let it. Steve needed him to be calm and level-headed. He would have his chance to get vengeance on the people causing and perpetuating this harm to his loved-one. 

Steve didn’t answer, focusing on his breathing until it was steady again. He swallowed purposefully. “Kay... m’good.” 

Thor slowly straightened and adjusted his grip on Steve, carrying on down the hallway as fast as he dared. Something exploded up ahead, and warm light flickered around the approaching corner. Thor whirled Steve around and scooped him up, running back the way they had come. So much for finding Tony. He just hoped that was the inventor taking care of some HYDRA agents. 

The lights flickered and went out. Thor slid to a stop before he collided with something and pressed his back to one wall as he waited for his eyes to adjust. Steve moaned in his grip, completely limp. “Steve...” 

“M’okay,” came the brave, stubborn reply. 

_ You never stop, do you, _Thor smiled, endeared. “I will protect you.” He poured all his conviction and certainty into his tone. 

“I know,” Steve heaved, and he could see a faint smile on the Captain’s dry lips. 

“How well can you see?” Thor asked, setting Steve back on the floor and draping an arm across his shoulders again. “My eyes are not as sharp as yours.” 

“I can see,” Steve agreed in a hoarse whisper. 

“Good,” Thor nodded. “Can you walk?” 

“If you help me,” Steve agreed, testing his weight. He was frightfully weak, but able to move his legs forward, at least. That was all they needed. Thor could support his weight without effort. 

_ We must find somewhere to take cover. If HYDRA find us, Steve must be able to hide. _They needed other tools, too. Mjolnir. A phone. He didn’t know where Steve’s shield was, but that would be handy too if they came across it. “Where is your shield?” he asked. Surely the Captain had brought it to his most recent battle... he hadn’t seen it, he realized. 

“Bottom of the Potomac,” Steve grit out, tugging them to the left a little. “Agh.” His injured leg gave way, and he tipped dangerously against Thor’s frame, clutching his stomach. He was pitching forward, but the rigid Kevlar vest was keeping his torso more-or-less upright. 

Thor paused, pressing his hand into Steve’s forehead. It was warm. “Easy,” he whispered. “Slowly.” _ Odin’s beard, you should be in bed... It’s quite the feat that you can move at all. _"Do you feel unwell again?” 

Steve pressed his knuckles to his lips and shook his head. His voice was quieter than before, words slurring together. “No more.” 

“We must,” Thor replied apologetically. “You must, Steve.” He would carry the soldier if he absolutely had to, but it would be risky. If they ran into enemies, it would slow his response time down. Then again, at this pace they were more likely to be caught. Steve probably weighed variables like these all the time on the battlefield, each time he made a call or gave an order. _I fear making the wrong decision._

His earpiece crackled with activity. “We’ve got a third target present. Stark is here.” 

“We predicted that. Carry through with the plan. He’s useless without his armor, or his tech.” 

Thor clenched his teeth. He was worried, but he knew those words weren’t true. At least the way the enemies were talking meant Tony was still alive. Steve was recovering, putting one foot in front of the other despite the great pain it had to be causing him. Thor supported his weight and carried on. His eyes had adjusted further, and he could see a little better now. Well enough to lead again. Something moved in the shadows. He lunged sideways and tackled Steve to the ground before even seeing the glint of a barrel in what little light there was. Three gunshots rang out, drowning out Steve’s cries of pain as his injured body slammed into the floor. 

Three more grunts rang out behind them. Thor pushed off Steve and looked over his shoulder, watching as three HYDRA agents fell to the floor. He looked back up, and spotted a human shape in the shadows, another glint of metal. “Tony,” he breathed. 

The shape moved closer. It wasn’t Tony. Thor didn’t recognize the person at all. His instincts flared warnings, and before he could think he was wrapping his body around Steve’s and pulling them both standing. He lifted Steve into his arms and ran as fast as he could. Even with a body in his arms, he was too fast for a human to keep up with. It did surprise him, though, that no bullets followed. 

“What’s going on up there?” “Report!” “Do you have eyes on Rogers? Thor?” Chatter and confusions flooded through the earpiece. Thor listened for anything that might be useful, kicking open the door to the stairwell and adjusting his grip on Steve. 

“Hang on,” he wrapped Steve’s arms around his neck and bunched his legs, gathering his strength. The Asgardian hopped onto the stair rail and launched himself up the stairwell with so much power he dented the metal. His body flew up the shaft, and he watched the numbers as he passed them. Deftly, he landed on a rail many floors up, grabbing on to the metal and turning around to jump again. He was almost there. Steve groaned against him, his grip failing. _ Hang on. _

Thor grabbed the railing and pulled himself over it, carefully nudging the door open. Everything was quiet. He padded through and looped his other arm back under Steve’s knees, carrying him down the dim corridor. “Steve. Are you still awake?” If the situation weren’t so dangerous, he would wish the Captain to fall asleep so he would no longer have to suffer. But he needed Steve to be conscious, to be able to move by himself. What little strength the injured soldier had managed to summon was bleeding away. Quite literally, too, Thor realized when the smell of blood filled his nose and clung to the back of his throat alongside dread. 

Steve groaned, but nodded. 

“Just a moment, and you can lie down,” Thor explained quietly. His boots were not made for stealth, and no matter how silent he tried to render his footfalls, small thumps still echoed with each step. The soles were just too thick and rigid. That was alright, he would fix that shortly. Thor paused by the door he wanted and triple-checked his surroundings. When he decided they were clear, he reached for the controls. They were unresponsive. 

Dammit. Thor sat Steve on the floor and nudged the buttons with his thumb, desperately trying everything he could think of. The scanner wasn’t even switching on to accept his passcode. 

Something nudged his arm, and he turned. Steve was pushing himself off the wall, glistening with sweat in the darkness and radiating heat. He reached out with trembling hands and wrapped his fingers around the front panel, struggling to get a grip on it. He was too weak and uncoordinated to pull it off. Thor brushed his hand aside and pulled it off as carefully as possible. _ I must not crush it. We must leave as little trail as possible. _ It surprised him a little that he remembered to be so careful. 

Steve was reaching into the components, wrapping his hands around the wires and disconnecting them here and there. Thor watched, fascinated as Steve hotwired the door open. They slid apart and revealed the gym. 

“Well done,” Thor breathed, placing his hand on the Captain’s shoulder. 

“You pick up a few things living with Tony,” Steve smirked with a fraction of his usual self shining through. “It’ll only stay open with the wires connected.” He pulled the copper filaments apart and the doors started to slide shut at a moderate pace. There would be time to get through. 

Thor took the wires from him. “You first,” he urged, and Steve stood up, using the prince’s shoulder for leverage and leaning heavily on the wall as he limped as quickly as he was safely able without toppling over. The second he cleared the threshold, Thor released the wires, clipped the panel back in place and slid between the closing opening with time to spare. He tucked himself back under Steve’s arm before the soldier could collapse. 

“Smart,” Steve wheezed, gazing around the room. There were a handful of places to tuck themselves behind and use for cover. Thor walked him past the wrestling mats, past hanging punching bags and the small stack nearby. They passed by weights and other training equipment, aiming straight for the showers. 

Thor sat Steve on a bench in the change rooms and loosened the straps on his Kevlar vest. He slid off the garment and helped Steve lie flat on his back. Blood flecked his shirt around the stomach and shoulder as he lifted it up, but the dark stains were even more visible on the white bandages underneath. Thor grimaced. It was too dark to see properly, but something had to be done. “Your stitches must have ripped when I tackled you. I am sorry.” 

“Better than a bullet in the head,” Steve chuckled weakly, hovering his hands over his stomach, his respirations shallow. Thor could hear his heart pounding too fast and too violently, and when he pressed the back of his hand to the Captain’s forehead he found it to be warm and damp. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said, straightening and jogging across the gym to the storage rack. He pulled out a handful of soft white towels and hurried back, shoving them under Steve’s head. 

They would be safe here for a little while. The tower was large, and Thor had left little trail. He undid the fasteners on his boots and slid them off, pushing them into a storage cubby. Steve’s usual spot was nearby. He found a folded sweater there, bringing it back and setting it aside for later. 

“You think Tony’s okay?” Steve asked as Thor knelt beside him and helped him roll over. The back of his trouser leg was stained red as well. 

“He’ll be alright,” Thor nodded with a reassuring smile, laying him flat again. He slid his fingers under the bandages encircling Steve’s waist and pulled them away from the skin. It was too dark to see the state of the wound without any light. 

Steve had closed his eyes, his breathing deepening now that he was lying down. He appeared to have fallen asleep, but a tremor of pain passed through him and his eyes flew open again. Thor grabbed his hand and squeezed it, meeting his gaze with concern. 

“What do you require?” he asked. There was a first-aid kit in here somewhere. It was unlikely he would be able to fix those burst stitches here, but there was surely something in there that could help. He could probably find some water and food around here too. 

Steve pushed his unhurt arm under himself, grasping his ribs and squeezing his eyes shut, breathing through clenched teeth. Thor slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him sit, rubbing slow circled in the base of the Captain’s taught neck. _ I must end this as quickly as possible. _

“M’okay,” Steve rasped, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He let his head fall against Thor’s shoulder. “Still cold.” 

“You lost a lot of blood,” Thor explained patiently. _ And you’ve just lost more. _

“Feel terrible.” There was as much frustration as there was pain in Steve’s voice. 

“It will be over soon. You can rest for a little while. I’m going to grab something, but I’ll be right back. Will you be alright for a moment?” 

Steve hesitated, but nodded. Thor lowered him down again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, scurrying out of the changing area and back into the gym. He was pretty sure there was a first-aid kit on the back storage shelves. Without his boots, it was easy to move soundlessly. The Asgardian stalked nimbly through the gym on the balls of his feet. Stealth had never been his forte, nor his preference, but he’d learned plenty from Steve, even from Natasha and Clint when he trained with them on occasion. Doing a handful of missions with them had helped, too. _ Always more to learn. _

Aha, the kit was right where he’d thought he’d seen it, and it was bigger than he’d first expected. Victorious, Thor strode back to the changing rooms. Steve was still on his back, limp and unmoving. 

“Steve,” he hurried over and sank to his knees, sliding his hand under the Captain’s head. He dropped the kit and felt for a pulse. It was rapid and fluttery, but adamant. Steve opened his eyes. 

“Dozed off,” he whispered apologetically. “Sorry.” 

“No, rest while you can,” Thor slid himself onto the bench and propped Steve against his chest, setting the kit beside him and popping it open. “When I am finished. Can you hold the flashlight?” 

Steve nodded and took it, flicking the switched and letting Thor guide his hand, holding it as steady as possible. It wavered a little, but that was fine. Thor dug a pair of scissors out of the kit and cut off the stained bandages around the Captain’s waist first. They both held their breath at the sight of the wound. It was ripped open anew, front and back, sobbing blood. 

Thor worked in silence, pushing gauze pads over the entrance and exit wounds until the bleeding stopped, repeating an apology over and over again as Steve wheezed and gasped through the pressure. The bleeding slowed quickly, and both of them were all too glad when Thor’s force could be relinquished. 

“Let me borrow your hands,” Thor took back the flashlight and wedged it between Steve’s knees pointing at his belly. Steve set his hand against wound, pushing against the handful of gauze pads placed there. Thor covered the hole in his back and wrapped the bandage snug. There was plenty of supplies here, so he didn’t hold back, using the whole roll. 

The constant pressure seemed to help. Steve sighed and settled, picking up the flashlight and aiming it at his shoulder. Thor laid him down and cut that bandage off too, making a neat pile on the floor. The stab wound was ripped open too. He plucked free the snapped stitches and resumed pressure. Steve gripped the flashlight tight enough to dent the plastic casing, but he didn’t lose his grip. His eyes were strikingly sharp. 

“Same old same old,” Steve whispered, and it sounded like it was more to himself, as if he’d forgotten there was company. His tone sounded vaguely frustrated. Thor struggled to understand why, but shook off the thought. He could be making assumptions. Steve was unwell. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, reluctant to make assumptions. 

Steve froze, his huge frame going rigid. A muscle leapt in his lower back and his jaw tensed. “You an’ me, here, like this.” 

“Like what?” _ Am I doing something wrong? Is that why you were drawing away from me and hiding your hurts before I left? Have I wronged you? _

Steve clearly hadn’t anticipated this conversation. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but the frustration wasn’t going away. He squeezed his empty fist tightly. “Takin’ care of me. ‘gain.” 

“And I would a thousand times over, for eternity,” Thor promised, taping down the bandage and resting Steve on his back again. He leaned over and squeezed his partner’s arm, rubbing the clammy skin with his thumb. 

Steve’s bicep jerked as if he’d gone to pull away but stopped himself. “Shouldn’t have to.” 

“In you line of work, it’s hardly avoidable.” 

“Shouldn’t be,” Steve growled. “Not for me.” 

“You are hardly infallible,” Thor frowned. “Not you, nor I, nor anyone on this team, nor on earth, nor in the whole of existence is perfect. You are by far one of the best warriors I have ever known, in skill and spirit-” 

“Captain America is perfect,” Steve hissed angrily, resentment bleeding through his tone. He took his shirt from Thor’s hand and struggled into it by himself, sitting up off the Asgardian’s chest plate to do so. Thor let him, desperate to help but resisting the urge; Steve needed to feel capable and independent. 

“Captain America isn’t real, not in a tangible sense” Thor replied quietly. “He is a symbol, yes, but not a man. And a man could never be him. Legends can never be truly satisfied. As great a title as it is, you have been saddled with a curse. What makes you great is not that you fulfill everything your mantle demands you be, it is that you try. But it does not mean you cannot bleed. You are allowed to hurt, Steve. In your body, and in your heart.” 

“Not supposed to,” Steve wrapped his hand around the edge of the bench, splintering the varnished wood with his fingers. “Supposed to protect. Should be good enough to do that and keep myself safe too. I’m supposed to be the best fighter on Earth, and I _ can’t even--! _ Can’t even protect myself.” He raised his voice and caught himself, dropping it back to a whisper. The outburst had jostled his ribs. Steve coughed and pulled away from Thor, wrapping his arms protectively around his bruised chest. “Dammit,” he spat, digging his fingers into his sides, the fabric of his shirt threatening to tear. 

Thor carefully pried his fingers away. Steve fought him, but the Asgardian easily grabbed a wrist in each hand and held him immobile. They sat facing each other, the soldier quickly giving up struggling when he decided it was both too painful and utterly futile. The fire in his eyes, though disconcerting and heartbreaking, was just as reassuring too. There was still strength in him. 

“It is not by your own carelessness or lack of skill that leads you to be injured,” Thor reasoned, pouring all his strength into his voice as he held the Captain steady. “I know that with the utmost conviction. I have seen you fight. You can be reckless, but I do not believe you would carelessly put your life at risk. You know your limits, and you do what you must to protect those you can. And though I wish for your sake you could be spared any injury at all, it is my pleasure to do what I can for you when the fight is over.” 

Steve was listening, at least. His expression quickly turned from attentive to angry. “But this-” 

“You did not ask for this,” Thor reasoned firmly, but not unkindly. “It is not your fault he hurt you.” 

“I let him,” Steve bit back. 

“You didn’t want to hurt him. I would have been just as reluctant in your position.” 

“If you were in my position, this wouldn’t have happened,” Steve tightened his fists and pulled again. In his weakened state, it was worth nothing. Thor held steady. 

“If I was in your position you would do the same for me,” Thor replied, and this time his voice was stern. “I know you would, because you already have. I regret deeply that I was absent when you needed me, Steve, but I cannot change the past. I _ can _ change the present. I bet my place in Valhalla that I will protect you until my dying breath, and care for you. Today, or any other day, as you would protect and care for me.” 

Steve was silent, his fists loosening. He didn’t say a word, eyes glinting in the dim ambience cast by the discarded flashlight. 

Thor let go of his wrists and grasped his shoulders instead. “If I have wronged you in some way, and you no longer want my care, then tell me-” 

“Thor _ no!" _ Steve gaped, guilt immediately flooding away the anger. “No, no this isn’t your fault at all. Shit... _ god _ Thor, anything but that.” 

“Then tell me,” the Asgardian held his parner firmly in place. “Tell me what ails you, and we can fix it, together.” 

Steve’s lip wobbled, and at first Thor wondered if he’d simply passed out as he shut his eyes and collapsed forward. But the Captain was wrapping his arms tightly around him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Thor pulled him in, gentle with his partner’s wounded body. Steve shivered and sighed, tense muscles unwinding. His voice was very quiet, tired and hurt. “Even if I give everything I have, what if it’s not enough. What if I haven’t given enough... I have this body for a reason. I gotta use it, right?” 

“You have no obligation to anyone to do anything,” Thor whispered back. “You could retire. I’m sure some people wouldn’t be happy, but those people would never be content no matter how much you gave.” 

“Have an obligation to myself,” Steve admitted, barely audible. “My body can take it. So I have to.” 

“You don’t,” Thor shook his head. “You don’t, Steve.” 

“And if people die when I could have saved them?” 

“People die all the time. All the evil in the world is not your responsibility. My people are thought to be gods, but even we cannot protect all of humanity from its own evil, nor from every outside threat.” He wrapped his hand around the back of Steve’s head and rubbed at his hair with his fingers. 

Steve melted into his touch, stumbling over his own tongue. “And you always take care of me... just a bother.” 

“It is no ‘bother’,” Thor assured. “Warriors care for each other after a battle. I have fought many battles, Steve, more than you or anyone else on our team. I have cared and been care for countless times. It is no bother. As I have reminded you in the past, I will remind you again and again, as many times as is needed.” 

Steve shuddered, falling silent for a long minute. “I couldn’t save him,” he whispered, voice crackling. “I couldn’t save him, and they made him into that. God it hurts...” 

Whether Steve was talking about the pain in his body or his heart, Thor wasn’t sure, but it was probably both. “I know,” he replied, maintaining the calm and level tone of his voice. He rubbed his thumb into Steve’s lower back. “I know.” 

“Why’d I let him do this to me...” Steve moaned. “I’m an idiot.” 

“Perhaps,” Thor smiled. “But you did what you have always done. What you believe to be right. What is your Earth saying? Hindsight is always twenty-twenty?” 

Steve nodded and chuckled dryly. “Yeah. Not sure I could have done better, when I think about it. Stopped the helicarriers. And I’m alive. He’s alive. Remembered me. All-round win, right? Take what you get?” 

“Indeed,” Thor agreed. “We will do as we have always done, make the best out of what comes. We’ll find him. I promise you this.” 

“Missed him,” Steve sighed, his grip loosening. “Still can’t believe he’s alive...” 

“We’ll get him back,” Thor assured. _ We will retrieve this small portion of your past. You both deserve it. _Frankly, he relished the chance to meet the man who had helped make Steve into the person he was. “It is tradition to meet your partner’s family, is it not? I look forward to it.” 

Steve chuckled again, and it sounded a little more cheerful, if not choked and weary. “Yeah.” 

“We’ll get him back,” Thor repeated resolutely, feeling all the tension in Steve’s body unwind. “We’ll find him.” 

Steve didn’t reply. He’d passed out, or fallen asleep. It was hard to tell which. The prince shifted his position and pulled his partner into his lap, holding him sitting to ease his breathing. They fit together extraordinarily well, for two huge, muscled men. Their bodies locked together with little need for adjustment. Steve’s head was comfortably sitting against his shoulder, warm breaths brushing his throat. He looked peaceful. It was a shame they couldn’t stay here until the threat passed on its own. Thor could still hear HYDRA’s men over the earpiece. They were searching, but it didn’t sound like any of them were on this floor yet. 

They needed to find a communication device. Thor couldn’t leave Steve by himself here, and he didn’t want to wake him up either, but they couldn’t just sit around and wait. He’d gotten what he’d wanted from this room, a chance to regroup and formulate his plan without having to split his focus in so many directions. It was time to make another difficult choice. Thor worked Steve back into the Kevlar vest and zipped the sweater on over top, pushing his lips into the Captain’s warm forehead. _ What to do... if we stay here, we risk being cornered. If we leave, we risk being spotted. _

The choice was made for him. Something moved out in the gym. Thor’s hand whipped out and shut off the flashlight. He sat Steve in the crook of his arm and left one hand free, tucking himself against the wall and watching the entrance to the change room closely, barely breathing. 

“He headed upstairs,” someone was saying over the earpiece. _ Who, Tony? Me? _

“Careful, he’s shooting to kill.” _ Not me, then. We haven’t fired a gun. The person who was in the hallway? Not Tony, then. Barton. He must be back. That means Natasha is with him. _

Thor held very still, just in case he was wrong. He heard the door to the gym slide shut, then nothing. Not a creak, not a scuff, nothing. He prepared himself to duck and pivot to shield Steve’s body if bullets came flying. 

A dark shape moved around the corner, something metal shimmering in the darkness – a gun. Plus something else, something too big to be a gun. Thor dipped down and jumped sideways, balancing Steve’s unconscious form easily. He raised his other arm to steady his precious cargo and swiveled his hips, smashing a kick into the enemy’s chest. Down went the man, and Thor jumped over him, racing for the door and ignoring the sound of hard metal cracking tile and drywall. _ Not Barton, or Widow. _He freed his other hand again and pushed his fingers into the seam of the door. The metal crumpled like foil under his grip, and he grit his teeth, forcing the opening wider and wider until he could squeeze through. He ran. 

Where in this tower would he find a phone? Everybody kept theirs on them, and it wasn’t like Tony had landlines around. There had to be a Starkpad around here somewhere. Surely he could find a way to make a connection between it and some other device one of his friends outside the tower was carrying. Thor had used one of those pads a few times. He knew how to work one. 

Nobody was talking over the comms, to his surprise. Surely there would be chatter if the enemy had found them. But there wasn’t. _ My blow did not kill him, I know that. _ It might have been enough to temporarily render unconscious, but surely by now there would be some communication over the earpiece... _ There is an unidentified, unaffiliated shooter in the building. _ A third mystery party. Thor burst into the stairwell and jumped up several floors at once again. _ Not good. _

He could hear people opening doors far below, talking quietly to each other, loading weapons. Thor quickly left the stairwell and shut the door as quietly as possible while balancing Steve in his arms. He picked up the pace again, glad he had taken off his boots. Barefoot was far quieter, almost completely silent. He was no spy, and the weight of Steve in his arms made it a little harder to mind his footfalls, but all the same he was proud of himself. 

Barton’s room was just up ahead. The archer liked his video games, so surely it would be easy to find an electronic device inside his room, even if he’d taken his phone with him. Of course, the door was firmly locked, and without the computers online there was no way to access the locks. Thor cast a glance at Steve’s sleeping face, and couldn’t bring himself to wake the slumbering Captain. _ That’s fine. I can get in. We need not stay, so I can bypass delicacy altogether. _The thunder god forced the door open with one bare hand and ducked inside, sliding it shut. 

Clint’s room was a state. There were discarded clothes all over the floor, a pool table in the middle of the landing and various dart boards on the walls. There was a television and various game consoles set up by the couch, surrounded by shelves of games and movies and snacks. Thor laid Steve on the couch and propped him up on some pillows, going to the shelves and digging through a box of protein bars. He hung on to a couple and hoped the archer wouldn’t mind, heading to the kitchen. The fridge was dark when he opened it, losing its heat in the absence of electricity. Thor pulled out the perishables and put them in the freezer where the cold would last a little longer. He took a bottle of Gatorade and came back to the couch. 

To his surprise, Steve was awake, rubbing his eyes with confusion. 

Thor hurried to his side and took the top off the bottle of drink, wrapping Steve’s hand around it and guiding it to his lips. “Slow sips,” he reminded gently, watching the soldier drink. The substance had always perplexed him, bright and unnatural in color. He didn’t care for it himself. 

Steve swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Where are we?” he asked, his eyes dazed and glassy. 

“Clint’s room. We had to leave,” Thor explained, holding up a protein bar and unwrapping it. This would be okay for Steve’s perforated stomach, right? If he took small bites? He wasn’t sure, but his partner needed the food. Maybe it would wake him up a bit. He broke off a small portion and handed it over, offering the drink to wash it down. “There is another person in the building. He is not in communication with HYDRA, but he may not be our ally.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t make any comment, obediently eating another small portion of bar and sipping his drink. Thor rested the back of his hand against his forehead. It was warm. _ The serum is working hard, but it won’t get a chance to do its job if Steve doesn’t get the rest he needs. _ But the serum _ was _ working. The cuts in the super-soldier's face already looked slightly reduced. Not as much as they should be, but better. _ No doubt because the serum has more pressing injuries to fix... injuries that were ripped open. _

Thor set his jaw and touched Steve’s wrist. “You’ll be alright for a moment?” Steve nodded. “Good. Drink, slowly.” He rose and padded through the dark quarters, searching for what he wanted. It wasn’t hard to find a Starkpad. It only took him a few seconds to spot the device sitting on the counter by the stove. _ Yes! _ Thor snatched it up and jogged back to the couch, kneeling by Steve’s side and turning on the screen. 

Blue light bathed their faces as they inspected the display. 

“No signal,” Steve murmured, squinting at the info bar across the top. Thor exchanged the tablet for the Gatorade and the soldier flicked his shaky finger across the display. “Network’s down. Someone’s jammed it, or shut it off. Something.” 

“Can you reboot it?” Thor asked. 

“Maybe,” Steve swallowed, blinking a couple of times. He looked deathly pale in the light, the collar of his shirt stained with sweat and his breaths rattling in his chest. Thor reached over and loosened the bulletproof vest, letting it hang open. That seemed to help. 

“What must be done?” Thor asked. 

“I...” Steve winced and dropped the tablet in his lap and clutched his head. Thor immediately set the tablet on the floor where the light wouldn’t be shining so directly in his face, setting one hand on the soldier’s knee and the other on the back of his neck. 

“Breathe, Steve.” 

“Sorry, sorry...” Steve panted. “Just... headache.” 

“Concussion,” Thor nodded. The last thing Steve needed was to be staring at a bright screen. But he’d be staring at the inside of his eyelids for all eternity if they didn’t find a solution to this. “Take your time. Breathe.” 

Steve swallowed roughly and accepted the drink when it was pressed to his lips. He opened his eyes and took a few sips. “Kay. M’good.” 

“If you instruct me what to do, I could do it,” Thor reassured, picking up the tablet. 

Steve waved his hand and took it. “Not sure I can remember without looking at it.” In his state, there was no way his perfect memory would able to serve him fully. The Captain squinted but set his jaw defiantly, tapping the screen and searching for what he wanted. It took him several tries before he ended up where he wanted to be. Thor watch quietly, fascinated as Steve’s fingers darted across the tablet screen. It took him a couple of minutes, but he found the server data he was looking for. As they’d guessed, all electricity and incoming signals had been cut off. 

But they weren’t being blocked. They had simply been disabled remotely. That meant they could be remotely switched back on. Steve accessed various checkpoints throughout the network. The arc reactor powering the building, plus backup sources were all disabled. 

“Wait,” Thor frowned. “Hold the lights. If we can hide in the shadows, we’ll be safer. You and I can both see well enough in the dark.” 

Steve agreed almost instantly, bringing up the internet and cell reception servers instead. If he could access those, they could access JARVIS, and JARVIS could call for help. The pair made brief eye contact, and Thor nodded. 

“Five minutes till reboot,” Steve whispered, handing the tablet away and covering his eyes. Thor shut the device off and placed his hand between the Captain’s shoulder blades. 

“Well done,” he smiled. “How do you feel? Better, worse?” 

There was a long and thoughtful pause. “...not sure,” Steve mumbled. “Hurts, tired. Can’t get warm. So, relatively, not bad.” He punctuated with a humorless chuckle and wrapped his arms around his ribs. 

_ Relatively, you’re doing extremely well. You’re conscious and aware. Let us hope that lasts. _ Thor brandished the drink. He was about to suggest they rest here for a few minutes, but voices were calling through his earpiece again. 

“Blood. He was here.” 

“They can’t have gone far. Rogers barely made it out of that fight alive. He won’t be running very far.” 

“We don’t know that. Thor is with him. We need to be careful.” 

“And you think the guy would step away from his friend to fight us? Even if he is that stupid and tries to fight us, Rogers will have a gun to his head before that guy can do anything to us. Let’s move. He went up. Scan all floors, every room, every corner. I want this wrapped up before someone comes home.” 

Someone shouted, and bullets cracked. Thor winced and touched his ear, but kept listening intently. Steve watched him closely, a frown on his bruised features. 

“He’s here!” A few more garbled shouts, more gunfire. The click Thor had come to recognize as an empty magazine. More shots, the smack of something hard striking flesh and cracking bone. It sounded oddly metallic. But it couldn’t be Iron Man; not without a few snide quips from Stark, or the hum of repulsors. Someone else, someone taking down these intruders. 

“The Asset, he’s here,” someone explained, sounding a mixture between annoyed and frightened. 

“What is it?” Steve asked. “What’s going on?” 

“Our mystery visitor,” Thor replied, opening his mouth to continue but cutting himself off as more voices called orders in his ear. They were coming. They were climbing up to this floor. It was only a matter of time before they were found. And until backup arrived, it would be wise to stay away from a fight for as long as possible. 

Steve was already rising, forcing his tired, torn muscles to obey. Thor helped him up, draping an arm across his shoulders once more and heading for the door. Beside him, the Captain’s eyes hardened as he did his best to push aside all that ailed him and focus solely on moving forward, one hand resting on the gun at his hip. He was no faster than before, legs moving shakily, but moving. Together, they exited the room and made their way to the stairwell. 

Thor heard the door open through his earpiece before he saw it a few floors below theirs. Steve, to his surprise, drew the gun from his hip in a flash and aimed, shooting down the first man who appeared. The shot missed, and it took Steve another shot to land a mark. The man fell, the bullet tearing through his mask. By then, the others were piling through. Another door still farther down opened, and more HYDRA agents piled into the stairwell, drawing their weapons. _How many of them are there?_

Thor ran, keeping to the stairs this time to make himself harder to hit. He could still leap up them four at a time, scooping Steve off the ground and protecting his head with his shoulder. A handful of bullets bounced off his armor, and a couple actually struck flesh, but they were insignificant to him. His skin sealed shut, and the pain was nothing. No bullets hit Steve. That was all he cared about. The demigod quickly left their attackers in the dust, bounding up more and more floors. Their path was still visible to the enemy, but that was fine. It would take them much longer to catch up. 

They’d landed in the communal area, the kitchen to one side, the balcony to the other. There was lots of cover. Thor carried Steve behind the counter and set him down, double-checking he hadn’t been hit before grabbing the knife block by the sink and setting it nearby. 

“Stay down,” he ordered. “I will keep as many men as I can from crossing the threshold. I’ll be fine.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed as he reached up and rubbed his finger along the smear of blood on Thor’s shoulder. “But-” 

Thor wiped the blood away, revealing perfect skin underneath. His expression darkened. “Their mortal weapons will not harm me,” he replied calmly, and opened his hand. They’d been found now, so it didn’t matter; he felt Mjolnir answer the call, rising off the floor where he’d left it just by the exit to the helipad and zipping through the hallways and into the stairwell. It followed the stairs and bowled a few men over on its way. How foolish, to persist their goal while the God of Thunder stood against them. _No matter. Lessons will be learned._

Mjolnir burst through the door, smashing it right off its hinges. Both objects flew toward him, and he caught them, the hammer in one hand and the door in the other. Then he closed the gap to the stairwell in two long leap and hurled the dented door down the steps. Most of the men managed to duck, but a few unlucky ones at the back caught the full force of the object and tumbled back the way they had come. A couple of them rose back to their feet, dazed. One did not. Thor stood looking down at them, his hands and eyes and his whole body crackling with angry energy. These men would go no further. 

Gunfire erupted through the shaft, bright flashes lighting up the shadows. Thor spun Mjolnir in front of him, protecting his face and chest. A few stray bullets clipped his legs, but his armored battle trousers protected him. The shots that did draw blood healed almost immediately. Most of the bullets crumbled against Mjolnir’s superior metal, but a couple bounced back and struck the very men who had fired them. The gunfire slowed to a stop, and Thor thrust his hammer forward. Vengeful lightning galloped through the darkness and speared the nearest cluster of enemies. Involuntary screams ruptured the air. 

A loud and agonized cry rang out behind him. Steve. He heard the muted pop of a silenced gun and another yelp of pain. “_ Steven! _” Thor roared and hurled Mjolnir at the HYDRA agents still climbing up and whirled around, racing back into the room. 

The windows had four neat circular holes in them, grappling wires dangling loosely outside each one. A body flew over the counter toward him, and he nearly reached up to catch it until he realized it was a HYDRA agent. The man hit the floor and bounced, dazed. Thor ran toward the counter and grabbed the edge as he banked around it. He found five men. 

Three were HYDRA, and one was Steve, who was sprawled on his side and clutching his chest, his gun just out of reach. Thor ran to him and pulled him sitting, searching for new wounds. He found only two torn holes in Steve’s sweater, bullets lodged in his Kevlar vest just underneath. 

The fifth man was a stranger, moving like a whirlwind as he dealt with the remaining three HYDRA agents. One cracked his skull on the marble counter, a paring knife in his throat. The other two were tossed out a window. The stranger straightened and turned. 

_ Metal arm. _It clicked before Steve spoke a shuddery word full of pain and memories. “Bucky...” 

Maybe Bucky was in there somewhere, but Thor didn’t like the look in the man’s eyes as the assassin faced them both, something detached and cold in his eyes. There was familiarity there too, and confusion, along with the fading traces of fear. Those haunted eyes flicked to Steve, lingering with some sense of recognition and perhaps a little relief, too. They quickly locked back onto Thor’s. _He saved him. Regardless of his condition, or previous misdeeds, he protected Steve. _That didn’t eliminate the fact that his partner had been seriously injured by those hands, but it was enough to dissuade Thor from tackling the man to the ground right this instant. 

Protectively, the demigod set Steve on the floor and moved in front of him, crouched close to the floor. He lifted his hands, ready to catch or throw punches where needed. 

Neither of them said a word, staring each other down as Barnes appeared to decide what he wanted to do, and Thor tried to discern how much of the man was present beneath the killer. The Winter Soldier didn’t appear to know either, eyes darting between the bodies he had created, his former target and the man standing in his way. Steve panted and groaned softly, coughing a couple of times. 

“Buck... it’s me. You remembered me...” It sounded more like a reminder than a question. Steve didn’t get a chance to continue, and Bucky didn’t get a chance to answer. The remaining HYDRA agents were regrouping and swarming out of the stairwell. Thor turned to Steve. His partner was shaking again, trying to regulate his breathing but failing. Even in this dim light he looked paler. 

Thor looked back up to Bucky, and they made eye contact once more. The enemy was here. There was no time to talk about the politics of this. The prince stood up slowly and kicked the discarded gun in the assassin’s direction. Mjolnir sailed into his palm when he called it. 

Barnes scooped up the weapon, his expression unreadable as he jumped over the counter and rushed into battle. He was dirty and disheveled, his shoulder-length hair unkempt and his clothes torn. He looked unwell, skin pale and eyes sunken. But it didn’t seem to matter: the man attacked with almost as much speed and grace as he was used to seeing Steve employ. His moves were brutal and efficient. The Winter Soldier didn’t play around. 

Thor stayed on the other side of the counter, close to Steve, throwing his hammer into the fray and punching anyone who got too close. “Steve, are you alright?” He stole a glance behind him. Steve was still on the floor, curled around his stomach and slick with sweat, eyes squeezed shut. He was very clearly not okay. 

There was no time to stop and tend to his fallen friend. He wasn’t bleeding to death, so Thor reluctantly faced the battle and caught Mjolnir, only to hurl it back into the cluster of enemies. There seemed to be more HYDRA agents with every moment that passed. They were everywhere, converging on this location. They came through the stairwell, through the windows, abandoning all stealth and swarming like locusts. 

Two was better than one, and though Barnes was doing quite well, it wasn’t enough. Certainly not with Thor chained to his partner, unable to utilize his full range without leaving Steve exposed. He would have to make due. He’d fought far more fearsome enemies. These were mere humans, unenhanced. Their enthusiastic shooting was quite adorable, but ineffective. Each bullet that managed to strike the exposed flesh of his arms merely stung for a moment or two. 

Unfortunately, it was impossible to defend from all sides at once, and the small HYDRA army were getting closer and closer to slipping past him. Thor only had two arms. It would be impossible to get Steve out of here, too. Not amidst this carnage. 

“Steve!” he called. “Steven, get up!” The least he could do was make sure the soldier was awake, maybe coax him to pick up a weapon just in case it was necessary. He flashed out his hand and a bolt of lightning curled from his fingers, frying the nearest attacker into a smoldering corpse. One quick glance over his shoulder revealed that his partner was indeed trying to gather himself off the floor, clutching his stomach but reaching for the knife block. Thor kicked it toward him with his boot and Steve drew out a short blade in his shaky hand, pressing his back against the counter. At least he wasn’t trying any heroics, keeping his head down. 

“_ Longing.” _ Someone was speaking in the crowd, voice low and menacing and purposeful. Thor searched and found the speaker. “ _ Rusted. Furnace. Daybreak. _" 

The Winter Soldier halted and turned to spot the speaker too. 

“No!” Steve shouted. “No, Bucky!” 

“_ Seventeen. Benign. _" 

Thor caught Mjolnir and drew back his arm, but a barrage of bullets pelted him, and he was forced to lift his arm and protect his face. Other HYDRA agents clustered around the speaker. Bucky was making his way toward them like a wolf to prey, his eyes burning with some haunted recollection. This was not good. Thor shielded his face and grit his teeth, spinning Mjolnir by his side. Bright blue sparks danced around the weapon, and he hurled it toward the speaker. 

“_ Thor!" _ Steve screamed. “Stop him! Buck, don’t listen!” 

“_ Nine. Homecoming, one, freight car. _" It was too late, he was finished. He ducked, and Mjolnir sailed right past him, downing the men behind him instead. And Barnes stood still in the center of the room, silent. 

Only for a moment. As if a switch had been flipped, all those conflicting emotions left the soldier’s eyes, and he stood rigid, blank. The HYDRA agent pulled off his mask and smiled. Barnes looked at him calmly and spoke something in Russian that Thor didn’t understand. 

“Kill Captain Rogers and anyone that stands in your way.” It was an order. The Winter Soldier turned around. 

Steve was standing up, holding onto the countertop so tightly his knuckles were white and the muscles in his arms swelled and strained. But he was up, the knife in his hand, expression grim and determined. A trickle of sweat trailed down his forehead and over the bridge of his nose, dripping off his chin. But he stayed up, unzipping his sweater and shrugging out of it. 

“Steve...” Thor paled. _ You sit down this instant. _ Steve had barely survived his previous encounter with the Winter Soldier, and, he’d been healthy at the time. This time, he could barely stand up. “Steve, _ get down! _” 

Barnes was moving forward, eyes locked on his target. He had no weapons on-hand, but was reaching for a knife embedded in one of his nearest targets. Steve ignored orders and took a couple of clumsy steps, throwing his huge body forward and tackling the assassin to the ground. Thor dispatched of the HYDRA agents occupying him and went to help, but more quickly rushed in to replace their fallen comrades. Nobody was going to make this easy for them. 

“Buck, stop,” Steve was already out of breath, but his expression never wavered. “Bucky, it’s me! You remembered me! You pulled me out of the river!” 

Barnes easily threw the Captain off of him and lunged forward, knocking down his target as the man started to rise with a swift punch to the gut. They both smashed into the floor, Steve with a gasp of pain. Thor was forced to turn away so he could punch an agent to the other side of the room, but he heard the sound of metal striking flesh. 

Thor hurled Mjolnir and blasted the cluster of agents trying to overpower him with numbers. He ignored their guns on him, and turned around. It wouldn’t matter if HYDRA got past him if the Winter Soldier killed the man he was trying to protect. Before the assassin’s metal fist could strike Steve’s bleeding face, Thor was there, moving with all his inhuman speed and catching the punch in his palm. The blow was strong, but Thor was stronger. _ Much _ stronger. Barnes appeared momentarily confused. 

It didn’t last long. They both stood over Steve’s dazed body, Barnes trying to push through, and Thor easily holding him back, dark purpose in his steely stare. The flesh fist came toward him, but he blocked it with his forearm and turned his hips, kicking the soldier in the stomach and sending him flying backward into the men trying to overwhelm the lonely demigod. 

_ Fine, bring me your wors _ _ t _ _ . _ Thor stood tall over Steve’s body, curling his lip like a dog and taking in the surroundings. There were too many bodies, too many variables. Too many things to go wrong. Alone, this would have been effortless, but with Steve to protect, he had to make sure not a single stray bullet nor a single brave agent made it past his defenses to hurt the man he loved most. 

Barnes returned, swinging his metal fist. Thor let it catch his jaw and push his chin sideways, then straightened and fixed the assassin with a dark stare. He opened his hand, and Mjolnir arrived with a dull smack. The assassin paused. 

Steve coughed, and Thor heard him moving on the floor behind him. “Don’t... don’t hurt him. Please... Thor... not his fault...” 

_ For you I will try. _ He released Mjolnir and it fell to the floor with a thud. “Very well.” 

Barnes and HYDRA attacked at once. Thor backed up a couple of paces and bent his knees, crackling with energy as he prepared to face an army alone. 

A blue blast sailed through the window and struck down the nearest enemy. “Need a hand?” 

“Stark...” Thor caught sight of a familiar red and gold shape flying through the window, another man in his grip. Through the air sailed a red, white, and blue disk, knocking down another HYDRA agent. “Sam.” 

“Sam, get Cap!” Stark yelled and shot through the broken window into the living space, dropping to the floor and sailing into the firefight. Sam obeyed, scooping up Steve’s shield and sliding his arm through the straps. 

“You have excellent timing, my friend!” Thor bellowed, confident that his partner would be safe in Sam’s capable hands. He moved away, and focused all his attention on the Winter Soldier. 

The assassin spared no time, striking hard and fast. Thor blocked everything, relying on his instincts to catch each punch and kick what came his way. He stood his ground until Barnes finally drew back a step to try a different plan, clearly realizing that the demigod was far stronger than his usual opponents. When the next blow sailed in, he caught it. There was surprise on the assassin’s worn expression as Thor easily took his metal arm captive and held it in place, squeezing the plates until they dented. Barnes pulled, trying to free himself, twist out of that impossibly powerful grip, but it got him nowhere. He tried for another attack, but Thor didn’t give him the chance, yanking him forward by his arm and punching him in the temple. The Winter Soldier collapsed in a heap, instantly unconscious. 

Thor took a couple of steps backward before grabbing the assassin’s collar, turning around and rushing back to his Captain. He deposited the unconscious soldier against the wall and crouch by Steve. Sam was with him, holding up the shield to protect them both while firing at anyone who got too close. He would run out of bullets soon. Thor grabbed a body off the floor and flung it across the room, bowling down a few enemies. Stark flew by and shot them dead. Thor crouched by Sam and glanced back at Steve’s half-lidded eyes and white skin. 

“He’s bleeding,” Sam announced quietly. “We need to end this and get him to a doctor. Ah, where do these guys come from anyway?” He shot down another agent, and aimed at the one behind only to be greeted by the click of an empty magazine. Thor swept out his fist and took down the approaching enemy with a bolt of lightning instead. Sam blinked at him. 

“We need to get him out of here and to safety. We cannot fight this many enemies back and protect him at the same time,” Thor reasoned. “If two of us provide cover-” 

“You need cover?” an arrow sailed across his field of vision and struck down an agent, exploding and incapacitating two more. Clint appeared from seemingly nowhere, bow in-hand, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Natasha arrived at his side, dressed in her own casual clothes, armed with her gun. Thor grinned. 

“Avengers, rally around Cap,” Tony landed on the ground, bullets dinging harmlessly off his armor. “By the time to police get here, this’ll be wrapped up.” 

Thor watched as his team waded through the carnage to form a tight perimeter around Steve. Sam pulled his friend up against a back wall, and kept close, shield raised and ready to deflect rogue shots. Thor spun his hammer in his hand, and Clint loaded up an arrow. Natasha raised her gun and picked a stray knife off the floor. Iron Man’s plates slid apart to reveal an array of weapons. 

“Do we really need to say it at this point?” Clint glanced around the group. 

“Yeah, why not?” Tony aimed his repulsors. “Just for fun. Go on, you say it.” 

“Wow, honor’s all mine,” Clint rolled his eyes. “My lucky day.” 

“Avengers, assemble!” Thor shouted instead, and he had to admit it did sound good. 

“_ Hey! _” Clint yelled, but it was too late. The mortal had missed his chance. “You get pancakes last when this is over!” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A semi-conclusion, and some hints for what's to come...

_Bucky. _"Buck!” 

“At ease, soldier, he’s here.” Tony’s voice somewhere off to the left. He opened his eyes and gave them a rub. Indeed, there was the inventor, lifting out of his seat and giving his hand a friendly pat. “Dragged him off the battlefield and stuck him in Hulk’s special containment unit. Thought it’d be better than chaining him up... Thor knocked him down flat. He feels kinda bad about that.” 

Steve waved his hand. “All okay?” 

“Everybody’s fine,” Tony agreed, pointing at his head. There was a dark mark there, bruised and scabbed over. “Bastards blew up my lab, but lucky for me I have a hard head and a loyal robot. DUM-E did a surprisingly good job getting rid of three HYDRA guys. Anyway, all my computers were fried when I came to. Quick thinking on you guys for getting all my systems up and running again.” 

Steve smiled hazily, but proudly. Yeah, that had been a good move. “Thanks for saving me.” 

“Aw, we’d miss ya,” Tony scoffed. 

Steve gave a dopey grin. It quickly turned into a frown. “Sorry...” he winced. “’bout the tower... Bought those guys here.” 

“No,” Tony corrected firmly. “_ We _ brought _ you _ here. I can get another tower, but I can’t get another Steve. They don’t exactly sell Steve’s on the market. Or course if they did, I’d have just bought another and left you on the riverbank.” The inventor shrugged indifferently, but he was hiding his relief poorly. 

The Captain chuckled. His whole body hurt, pulsing with a deep ache in the places that didn’t throb sharply from his disturbed wounds. But, he had to say, he felt better. The haze was quickly wearing off, which left more room for the pain to clutch at him. As it faded back in fullness, though, he realized it wasn’t as bad as it had been before passing out on the floor of the common area. 

“You’ve been asleep for almost twenty-four hours,” Tony sat back down and folded one leg over the other, checking his watch. “I was just about to switch shifts with your new pal. Thor loves him. They’ve been sharing war stories for hours. We were all glad your boyfriend had the distraction. You know how he gets.” 

Steve knew _ exactly _ how Thor got, and frankly, he didn’t want anything but. He’d denied himself the demigod’s touch and care for too long, and suddenly being granted it again had been a sharp reminder of how desperate he was to be cared for. Tony didn’t need to know that, of course, so he just smiled and nodded knowingly. 

“Well, if you’re up for it and Bruce clears you, you can come join us for breakfast. Clint’s making pancakes with Thor right now,” the inventor stretched out. “Maybe first you can go see your pal. Probably be good if you’re there when he wakes up.” 

Yeah, that was a good idea. Bringing Thor would be smart too, someone the Winter Soldier couldn’t hurt if it was him they encountered instead of Bucky. Steve didn’t fancy another beating. He rubbed the new bruise on his jaw, fingers brushing rough stubble. 

“You should probably be on a few more days of bedrest, but what the hey, you’ve already been scampering around the tower,” Tony shrugged. “My house, my rules. Bruce will understand. JARVIS, alert Point Break his sleeping beauty is awake, and get Bruce so we can discharge our patient.” 

“Will do, sir,” came the casual response. Steve blushed. 

“How you feelin’?” the inventor’s eyebrows pushed upward. 

Steve fiddled with the blankets, noting Thor’s cape was tucked around his body once again. He wrapped the thick scarlet fabric around his hands. “Hurts, a lot. But better. Stiff as hell. Tired. Hungry.” 

“We’ll get you full of food and healed up in no time, Cap,” Tony patted his knee and stood up in time with Thor’s entrance. 

The demigod blasted through the door, sliding on the floor with his socked feet and grabbing the bed rails to stop himself. His hair was pulled back, and there was flour on his apron and under his fingernails, but he thrust his body over Steve’s and block out the light, cupping the Captain’s ear and drawing their faces together. The kiss he received was vibrant and urgent, searching the inside of his mouth as if to find reassurance it was the same as it had always been. 

“Yeah... I think he’s okay.” The was Bruce’s voice. Thor pulled away, and they both looked up to see the doctor standing in the doorway, trying to keep his expression professionally neutral. 

“You cutting him loose then?” Tony grinned. 

“I want to do a couple of checks first,” Bruce lifted his hand and walked into the room. “If he’s feeling okay he can go. But _ slow, _ okay Steve? Let Thor help you. I think he’s done enough stitches on you for one week.” 

Steve flushed bashfully, but Thor squeezed his shoulder warmly. “It is no matter, my friend,” he insisted. “The events that occurred were not your fault.” 

It would be best to leave it at that. Steve agreed, and fell silent while Bruce checked him over. 

“I think you’re good to go,” the doctor explained as he clamped the IV and took out the line, “but don’t push yourself.” 

“Scout’s honor,” Steve gave a weak salute. 

It only took a few minutes before he was completely free of machinery. Bruce and Tony took their leave as soon as the work was done, claiming they would wait in the kitchen area (on a spare floor, the communal area was still trashed). 

Steve did his due diligence and didn’t try to force sore muscles to obey him, instead relying on Thor’s help to sit and turn so he could dangle his legs off the side of the bed. He watched the demigod get down on one knee and push socks onto his feet one at a time. Someone had brought him clean clothes. Thor got him into a shirt and fed his legs into some jogging pants, easing him to his feet to he could pull them up. Steve leaned his hips against the bed and wrapped his hands in Thor’s tight navy shirt, pulling him closer. “Thanks for protecting me,” he smiled. “You did a good job.” 

“HYDRA made a grave mistake thinking they could get between me and you,” Thor lifted an eyebrow, but he was flushed with pride. He closed the gap between them, and they shared a soft kiss. It felt good, melting away his aches for just a moment and softening his muscles. They pulled away and Steve leaned forward, feeding his arms under Thor’s and resting his head on the prince’s shoulder. He sighed into the hug, and closed his eyes. 

“I can’t believe he’s alive...” Steve murmured. “It almost doesn’t feel real.” 

“Life can certainly be surprising,” Thor hugged back, gently cradling his weakened body with careful hands. “But we will undo what HYDRA have done to him, to the best of our ability. Tony can repair his arm, and I am certain Bruce will have ideas about how to help his mind. I will search Asgard to see if there may be some magic that can help him. Magic was never my forte... but we have many ancient texts I can consult, and the Eir would help me, even if my father would not.” 

Steve squeezed harder and grit his teeth against what was coming. He could feel over a month’s worth of internalized emotions coming to a head in the center of his chest, pushing their way up his throat. He’d been holding it back pretty well up until now. Not even the knowledge that his old friend was still alive had broken his dams. But his friends all rallying around him for a new and daunting mission, one beyond what the Avengers usually tackled? One that was so personal, so engrained in his past? That was destroying his walls like Mjolnir to a rice cracker. 

Thor’s hand rubbed circles into his back, dancing around the bruising with an artist’s precision. “It’s alright, Steve. It’s just you and me. There is no weakness in tears.” 

No, there wasn’t. That would be stupid. It had always been difficult to let go and cry, though. Maybe it was the time he’d been raised in, or simply his nature. Regardless, Thor coaxing voice cut down the last of his defenses. 

He wasn’t sure if they were sad, happy, or just pained tears. Probably a mixture. A jumble of emotions dribbled out his eyes and soaked Thor’s shirt. The prince wrapped his arms around his waist and picked him up off the floor, gently sitting him back on the bed. Steve leaned forward, shaking with quiet sobs. It hurt, but it felt good. He allowed himself the moment, until there were no more tears left to cry. 

“Better?” Thor asked, and when they pulled apart he wore a knowing smile, pride shimmering in his eyes. Steve nodded and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Yeah, he did feel better. Thor picked up a glass from the table and tipped some water into his hand, cleaning away the tear tracks. “Good,” he beamed. “Then we can go visit your friend. Can you walk?” 

Steve furrowed his brow, uncertain. 

“No matter,” Thor brushed it off, holding out his hands. “We’ll take our time.” 

Indeed, they could go at whatever pace they wanted. Bucky was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere. There was no-one chasing them, either. Steve didn’t have to push himself to his limit, and he didn’t have to pretend. So when he slid off the bed and lowered his weight into his legs, he shifted most of it to Thor’s supporting shoulder. He felt a little unsteady and weak, but so much better than a day ago. 

“Let’s go,” he smiled. 

Thor obliged, helping him limp at a leisurely pace for the door. 

The Hulk’s special containment cell had always been empty every time he’d seen it, but Stark had redecorated it. The cylindrical glass cage had been furnished with a bed and a small shelf of books. There was food and water on the bedside table. The Winter Soldier was still sprawled on his side, his metal arm lying atop the sheets. Steve spotted a couple of finger-shaped dents in the plating and glanced at Thor. The prince shrugged apologetically. “It seemed dysfunctional beforehand.” 

“If you hadn’t stopped him, he might have killed me,” Steve replied. He’d foolishly believed he could get through to his friend again and snap him out of the brainwashing, but he’d paid for it with another knock to the head and a punch in the gut. If Thor hadn’t stepped it, it could have been a lot worse. 

Tony had put a hair brush and some washcloths in the room, but they were untouched. Steve pulled away from Thor and limped over to the chair stationed invitingly near the glass. He eased into it with a wince and wrapped his arm around his stomach, cradling the sensitive healing flesh there. His most painful injury was quickly forgotten. Bucky was turned from him, but he recognized those shoulders and the curve of his ear. _ I know you’re still in there. We’ll get you out. All of us. _

_ Stark... _ Memories of the bunker in Lehigh drained away his optimism. 

“What is it?” Thor asked quietly, resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. 

The Captain shook his head. “Just... something I saw while you were away. We can talk about it later.” 

“I will hold you to that,” it wasn’t a threat. More of a reassurance. Steve smiled and took it, nodding. 

They stayed by the cell for a few more minutes both of them watching Bucky’s chest rise and fall deeply, but too measured. Too perfect. He wasn’t sleeping at all. 

“Perhaps we had best leave him,” Thor offered quietly. “Come. This is likely a lot to process for him, as much if not more so than for you. You at least remember who you are, and recognize your surroundings. We do not know how much he recalls, nor how he feels toward it.” 

The prince was right. Steve sighed reluctantly. He didn’t want to leave, but his stomach was rumbling. He hadn’t eaten anything since the protein bar in Clint’s room, and the soup just before. The last solid meal he’d had before then had been long before that. 

“I can hear your stomach growling,” Thor chuckled. “Come on, the others are waiting. We can return to your friend when you are fed and rested. He will be well cared for in your absence.” 

Steve knew that. Yes, his friend was trapped inside a glass cage, but there was food and a comfortable bed. He’d be alright for a little while if Steve stepped out. Thor helped him stand and limp back to the elevator, his constant support unwavering in every aspect. 

Everyone was waiting. Tony had set up a guest floor as a common space, complete with a stack of films Clint was still working their less-cultured members through beside a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. There were chairs everywhere, and two spots left open in the cluster of Avengers packed around a coffee table loaded with food. Sam got up, leaving aside the shield and polish, running over and looping his arm through Steve’s free one. 

“Look who it is,” he smiled. “Of course you’d charm your way out of an early discharge.” 

Steve chuckled. “I think I’d annoy my way out first.” 

“Aw, you underestimate your good looks,” Sam guided the pair to the couch and handed over glasses of soda. 

Thor immediately pulled a flask from his pocket and tipped some of the substance into Steve’s, then into his own. “I agree,” he said firmly, as if there were nothing more certain in the world, and nothing more important. 

Steve blushed and took a sip of his drink. The Asgardian alcohol provided a relieving warmth in his chest and dulled the pain. Thor grabbed his legs and spun him around, pulling them into his lap. Clint brushed his hands free of flour and slid a plate of pancakes each into their custody. As _Indiana Jones and the Holy Grail_ kicked off, Steve couldn’t but feel there was something missing. Only this time, it wasn’t a disparaging or empty sensation, but one of hope – Bucky should be here, but he would be, one day. One day he would join them all on the couch to watch a movie and eat food, maybe play board games afterward. There was a long way to go before then, years maybe, but the day would come. Steve smiled. There was hope. He had Tony’s ingenuity and resources combined with Bruce’s expertise, as well as Thor’s mystical connections in case Earth techniques weren’t enough. They had every advantage possible. 

_ I’ll make this right Buck. I didn’t catch you then, but I’m here to pick you up now. And all these people will help you. You’ll fit right in with these guys. _

\-- 

Bruce didn’t give any explicit orders, but he didn’t have to. Thor was keeping his Captain in check. The serum was fast, but it wasn’t instant. After one more day of rest, he felt anxiousness seize his legs, and he had to battle down the urge to roll out of bed and escape to the gym. 

Being stuck in bed was never fun. It hadn’t been for the first couple of decades of his life, and it wasn’t now. At least now he knew he’d get better. 

And he had a thunder god at his side, keeping him occupied and distracted with every possible method. It was extremely effective. 

Neither of them wanted to be far apart for two long after a month of separation, not to mention two near-death experiences of Steve’s part. Thor had become protective, insisting that he do all the checks Bruce wanted. There wasn’t anything vigorous to do anyway, just change dressings and make sure everything was on the mend. It was, of course. 

They went to the cell a lot. Tony had done his best to make the cell feel a little like a real living space while he, Bruce, and Steve discussed what was the best course of action. Bucky wasn’t exactly talkative. In fact, he appeared asleep every time the soldier came to visit. Tony said he’d seen the man shift around and eat a little of the provided meal, but that was about it. He hadn’t wanted to spy and had shut the cameras off. 

“Let me go in there and talk to him,” Steve suggested. 

“Not until you’re healed,” Tony had immediately argued, to Thor agreement. 

“I am.” 

“It’s been four days, Steve. You’re not. You’re still limping.” 

“Fine,” he succumbed to reason, trying to ignore his growing desperation to talk to his friend. But the inventor was right: he shouldn’t be in there with healing injuries. Who knew what state of mind the assassin was in, or how stable he was. _I don’t want him in there any longer than he needs to be. He shouldn’t be trapped like that._ Not that there were many other options... 

“Slow,” Tony insisted. “We’ll take this slow. One step at a time. You just focus on getting better, and I’ll try to come up with a better way to give him freedom without endangering anyone. And what if he wants to leave?” 

Now there was something he hadn’t considered. Steve winced, staring at the floor. Thor placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Perhaps we can think about that another time,” the prince suggested. “The two of you have not yet spoken.” 

Tony was right, this would take time. He had to be patient, and he couldn’t assume things would go the way he wanted them to. Bucky might very well want to be free and start his own life. He might not remember Steve any more than he had, and even if he did that was no guarantee he’d want to share their lives like they had seventy years ago. Both of them were different people. 

A week went by before Thor invited him to join Natasha and Clint for a light workout in the gym. It was bliss. Steve forced himself to listen to his body instead of pushing himself, but the worst of his healing had passed, leaving behind only faint aches and pains in his stomach and back. That light workout helped focus his mind and burn off his accumulating anxiety. He went to see Bucky that evening, alone, dinner in his lap. 

Bucky was still on his side, pretending to sleep. As usual, he’d shifted positions since Steve had last saw him, but his back was turned as always. 

Steve sighed and set his empty plate on the floor, standing up and wandering closer to the glass. “I know you’re awake,” he started. “I know you can hear me. We’ll let you out, I promise. But you gotta talk. It... doesn’t have to be to me. If we at least know you won’t attack anyone we can give you a room, at least. You don’t have to say anything else, not until you’re ready.” 

Bucky’s shoulder twitched. The components in his arm were grinding loudly together, signifying it was trying to be moved. The sound was painful to listen to. Steve thought he saw sparks, and winced at the scraping of metal against metal. A couple of shiny fingers twitched atop the blankets, his estranged friend’s breathing shortening to almost imperceptible levels. 

“You remembered me...” Steve pressed his hand against the glass. “You don’t have to be the person you were back then. It’s okay. I’m not that person either...” 

He wanted to punch a hole in the glass, tear down the boundaries between himself and the man who had practically raised him and always been around to set him back on his feet when he fell down, in every sense. But he knew that if he rushed in there, he might get a fist in the face. _ I’m sure he’s scared. Probably confused, too. I don’t know what they did to him. I have to be careful. He’s in a new place, maybe waiting for punishment. There’s no way to assure him we’re all friends here, especially with this cage. _

If he persisted, maybe he’d break through. Or maybe he wouldn’t. That was a tough pill to swallow. What if Bucky never opened up to him? Or someone else broke through to him first? _ Doesn’t matter. So long as someone gets through to him, it doesn’t matter. Easy, Rogers, it’s been _ _ a week _ _ . HYDRA had him for seventy years. You can’t undo that kind of evil in _ _ a week _ _ . _

“I’ll... be back.” Steve sighed. It was impossible not to feel a little disappointed. 

Natasha found him the next morning with a folder in her hand, pulling him aside and offering it over. “This is everything I could find on him and the Winter Soldier program,” she explained quietly. “It’s described in gruesome detail, Steve... you don’t have to read it, but it might help.” 

Steve took the folder from her and flipped it open, immediately struck with a photo. There was Bucky, just as he remembered him. He bit his lip and rifled through the pages. There was a lot of stuff in here, forms and reports and other documents chronicling seventy years of torture and brainwashing. “Thanks,” he whispered, closing the folder with a hand that had suddenly become unsteady. 

Natasha had taken such good care of him over these past few years. She was approaching now, placing her delicate hands on either side of his head and pulling it down so she could reach his forehead, pressing a kiss into the skin there. “You’re not alone,” her smile was maternal as she pulled away. “We’ll get him back.” 

Steve blinked his eyes clear and nodded gratefully. She pulled him into a hug, carefully encircling her arms around his waist and drawing him against her. 

“Be careful, Steve, alright?” 

“Promise,” he smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

He read through the files that evening, skimming every word and steeling his heart against the horror of it. There was a lot. No detail was spared, Natasha was right. He got the full picture, and it was sickening. It was difficult to resist the tightness in his hand threatening to crush the fragile pages. 

So he brought them to Thor, and they sat on the bed in the prince’s room together, staring at them, Thor’s brow tightly knit together in solemnity as he processed the words. The Asgardian lowered the sheet in his hand and fixed Steve with a dark stare. “Evil truly knows no bounds,” he breathed darkly. 

Steve sighed and looked at his hands. “I don’t know what to do,” he sighed. “What if they destroyed him?” 

Thor placed a hand on his shoulder. “A part of this grave tragedy will always remain,” he spoke evenly, with that ancient wisdom that occasionally burned away his boyish demeanor. “But your friend lies somewhere beneath, I believe that completely. If he remembered you as you say he did, then there is hope. The task may appear daunting, but no one man can build a castle, even with all the time in the universe.” 

Steve snorted and rubbed his head, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Shame we don’t even have a blueprint.” 

Thor straightened him and shook his head, tapping a finger into the Captain’s chest. “We have this,” he explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. 

Would that be enough? Could he guide his friend back to him with his heart alone? It sounded terribly poetic, far too poetic to be possible. But Thor wasn’t a sentimentalist. Even if he were, he was too damn convincing for any of his words to sound empty. That night, they went to see Bucky together. 

\-- 

It took two weeks for all the marks of his fight on the helicarrier to vanish completely. The soft flesh of his belly was the last to smooth over, a last patch of pink hanging on tenaciously before finally fading back to creamy white. Thor celebrated by taking him to the gym and wrestling him on the mats. 

They landed back in Thor’s room, as usual, where Steve had practically moved in. He’d decided that Bucky might like to live in the Captain’s room. It might help him remember. And besides, he and Thor always slept in the same bed anyway, so why both having separate rooms? Why had they _ ever _ had separate rooms? 

It was late. Steve lay on his back, Thor wrapped around him tightly in a tangle of arms and legs. The god was surprisingly flexible, always managing to fit his body in with Steve’s no matter how far he had to bend his limbs to slot them into the right places. Sometimes the soldier found a leg winding around his back, or an arm tucked under his head, but it was never uncomfortable. Confusing, occasionally, when he woke up in the middle of the night to discover the second body tied around his. It was always interesting to discern which parts of Thor were where. The Asgardian could fold like a cat. But then again, so could Steve, thanks to the serum. 

They were entwined as usual, in the first position they’d settled into, Thor’s arms and legs wrapped tightly around his torso while the god slept with his cheek pressed up against Steve’s bare chest. Neither of them needed the five-hours-per-night they consistently managed together, but it didn’t matter. There was no way either of them were pulling away the second they awoke. Which was why Steve found it odd that he had awoken at such an early hour to Thor’s body shifting forcefully against his. 

_ Nightmare? _ They happened, for both of them. This seemed different, though. More violent. Steve freed his arm and rubbed his eyes with it, staring down at Thor’s mountainous shoulders heaving in short panicked gasps. He turned onto his back and Thor came with him, all his weight pushing on top of him. The prince squeezed like a python, hard enough to hurt. “Thor... Thor, wake up,” Steve wheezed and struggled to get his other arm free too. No use, it was trapped. He pushed at the prince’s shoulder with his free one. “Hey, come on. It’s just a dream.” 

No use. Thor was trapped in the throes of whatever was plaguing his slumbering mind, one leg jerking, and a shuddering breath pushing through his lips with a dry sob. The demigod turned his head and buried his face in Steve’s chest, calling a muffled plea. Anything spoken was intangible, slurred and shaky. Steve had no idea what the dream could be about, so he’d have to guess – the death of his mother? His brother? Past battles? Thor had never had a dream this aggravated, as far as he knew... They could be bad sometimes, but never like this... 

“Hey, Thor, it’s Steve. We’re in the tower. We’re home, we’re safe.” Meaningless, useless words. Thor couldn’t hear him, or if he could the dream world was drowning him out. Steve wrapped his hand around the prince’s neck. The skin was damp with sweat. 

Shit, how many times had he had terrible nightmares of his own? How many times had Thor pulled him back? _ Think, Rogers. Come on, wake him up. _He tried a shake, and it didn’t work. 

Change of plans. Steve summoned his strength and yanked his other arm free, pushing himself off the sheets and rolling both of them over so Thor was on the bottom. The prince hung on with his arms and legs, clinging to Steve’s torso in his increasingly unsteady grip. Pushing up so he wouldn’t crush Thor under him, Steve tried to shake the Asgardian free. It took a couple of tries, but the prince came loose, falling a couple of inches to the mattress, limbs flopping limply down as well. His sealed eyelids were flickering as the eyes underneath rolled left and right frantically. 

If Thor couldn’t hear him, maybe he could feel him. Steve lowered closer and trapped his partner’s lips in his, working them with affirming strength. _ I'm here, this is real. Real as anything. Whatever’s behind your eyelids is not. _

Thor stilled under him, the shaking and squirming and muttering coming to a stop. Steve opened his eyes and pulled back, watching the prince fall still. For a moment, it appeared the god had fallen asleep again. 

He hadn’t. With a jolt, Thor’s eyelids flew open and his body lurched upright, their foreheads nearly smacking together as the prince came to with a startled, drowned gasp. He collapsed back, panting, staring up at Steve as the Captain crawled off Thor’s hips and knelt beside him, taking grabbing hands in his and squeezing them to still the shaking. 

“What was it?” he asked. “What happened?” 

Thor’s eyes were bright with fear in the darkness, haunted and deeply shaken. He swallowed roughly and licked his parted lips, still catching his breath. 

“Let me get you some water-” Steve started to pull away, but Thor squeezed his wrist desperately. “What, what is it? Are you okay?” 

The prince clutched Steve tightly, grabbing his Captain by the arm in a grip that had not yet steadied. He looked truly fearful, as if the dream had transpired in front of him. 

“Catch your breath,” Steve eased a little closer, pressing his leg against Thor’s hip. “Easy, it’s okay.” 

“It is not,” Thor’s eyes widened. 

“What? Thor, what did you see?” Steve implored, begging to understand. 

The prince licked his lips again, their eyes tightly locked. He took a breath and spoke in a hushed voice, “Ragnarok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's just a little peek at some of what I have coming B) Fasten your seatbelts kids.


End file.
